Emma
Have you ever felt so utterly and completely empty inside? Where it felt like nothing truly mattered. Like a piano could fall on top of your legs, crushing them and it wouldn't bother you that you might never walk again. All because the pain that resides in your heart numbs everything else you might possibly be feeling, so in the end you kind of just shut down and close yourself off. Your friends are worried and try to help you but you ignore them because just for today you allow yourself to grieve; grieve the loss of your parent, grandparent, best friend, or whomever it was that you lost.
In my case it would be the most important man in my life; my father.
He died lying beside me while I was unconscious after I tried to save him from my own living hell. He was always trying to be my superhero. The sad thing about that is I had always believed that he was and I never got the chance to tell him. And now I no longer have a superhero to help save me from myself.
I spend my time staring up at the ceiling, laying in bed unmoving. A knock on the bedroom door alerts me of a visitor before it cracks open. Anna peeked her head in, her light brown hair falling in her face. She cautiously stepped into the room, a tray with a small breakfast in her hands.
"Hey, Em," she spoke in her phony happy voice. When I didn't respond she let out a soft sigh.
"How are you?" she asked me, her eyes showing concern in their caramel brown depths. Again, I left her question unanswered. "You need to get up. It's after one already. Your dad wouldn't want-"
"You couldn't possibly know what my dad wants," I told her through gritted teeth in a biting tone. Anna sucked her breath in sharply, shock registered across her features. She let out her breath in a huff and set the tray in her hands down on the dresser beside her, striding out of the room.
Good, now she'll finally understand that it's best to just leave me alone. I thought to myself.
When Anna left, she let the door hang open, so for the first time today I got up out of bed to shut it. I sat back down on the bed, cross legged and stared absentmindedly at the dark blue comforter Niall had picked out for this bed. Another knock at the door interrupted my sulking, again, and no more than two minutes later.
"Go away," I said loud enough for whoever it was to hear me.
"Em, this isn't healthy. You need to be with your friends. Don't shut us out, it only makes things worse. Believe me, I would know," Natalie tried to console me through the door.
"I'm perfectly fine. Now go away," I replied in a monotone.
"Okay, I will. I'll be back later to check in on you though," Natalie promised me.
"There's really no need," I mumbled.
I listened to Natalie's faint footsteps as she walked away before I went back to ignoring the world. God, how dare Anna believe that she knows what my dad would want. How could anyone know what he wants? He's lying in a coffin, six feet down in the ground!
I reached behind me and grabbed a hold of the first thing I touched. Without thinking about it, I chucked what ever it was against the wall across the room. Thankfully, it was just a pillow. I reached behind me for another, feeling better after throwing the first. All the anger I had kept inside was surfacing and it felt really good putting it to use, even if it was in a destructive manor.
Standing up from my spot on the bed, I stomped over to my stacks of books on my dresser and shoved them to the floor. A scream of frustration and other pent up emotions emitted from my mouth when I thought I was only going to sob. Streams of tears fell down my cheeks as I continued to throw my things all over the room.
Harry
No new messages
"Still no reply from Emma?" Niall asked me while he prepared his sandwich. I sat across from him on one of the marble counters in my kitchen.
"No," I sighed. "I can't get rid of this feeling that something is completely wrong."
"What feels wrong?" Natalie asked as she appeared in the kitchen.
"Emma hasn't texted me back and it feels off," I explained, running a hand down my face.
"Don't worry about it, Harry. Emma won't be talking to anybody today," Natalie replied, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs that was sat around the table I had on the other side of the counters. "Hey babe, could you make me a cup of tea, please?"
"Sure thing, love," Niall smiled lovingly at Natalie.
He stopped in the middle of making his sandwich in order to grab my kettle from the cupboard. I sat there with my mouth gaping open. I turned my gaze to Natalie, who was already looking at me, an innocent look upon her face.
"What?" she asked.
"What kind of magical powers do you possess?" I asked her in answer to her question.
"What are you going on about, Harry?" Niall asked me.
"You're whipped, mate," I chuckled. "That's what I'm going on about."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said indignantly.
"Oh yes you do, because we all know that you've never before in your life stopped in the middle of making a sandwich to fix someone tea," I smirked at him.
He just shrugged his shoulders and walked over to Natalie. "That's cos Natalie isn't just anyone," he spoke adoringly, cupping her face in his hands and placing a gentle kiss on her lips.
"Whipped," I coughed, smiling at the cute couple.
"It's not a bad thing," he stated, still gently holding her face in his hands as he stared into her eyes.
"Never said it was."
"Hey, Harry," Natalie said softly.
"Yeah, Nat?"
"Would you want to go check on Emma for me?" she asked as she glanced over at me for a split second.
"I thought you said she was fine," I stated, my eyebrows pulling together in confusion.
"Well, I'm not entirely sure if she is or not. She wouldn't let me into her room this morning."
"What makes you think she'll let me in?"
"I don't know, I'm just hoping that you'll have a better chance than Anna or I would."
"So what happens if she doesn't want to talk to me?"
"You have two choices; walk away or pester her until she gives in."
"I have to annoy her until she is angry to get her to talk to me?" I asked.
"Pretty much," Natalie replied.
"That sounds like Emma. Alright, I will go and talk to her for you," I said, hopping down off of the counter.
"Thank you, Harry," Natalie smiled.
"It's no problem," I said, beginning to walk away but I quickly stopped and looked back at the couple. "No having sex in my flat while I am gone, or ever for that matter," I said, pointing a finger at them knowingly.
"No promises," Natalie winked.
Niall looked down at her, his laughter filling the large room. "This is why I love you," he said before kissing her passionately.
I groaned as I walked out the door, heading across the hall to Niall's flat. Those two would do what they wanted now that they finally had some alone time. And with me being across the hall trying to persuade Emma into talking to me, there wasn't much I could do to stop them.
When I reached Emma and Anna's bedroom door I hesitated on knocking. Just as my knuckles were about to hit the oak wood I heard something crash to the floor on the other side. Becoming alarmed, I pounded my fist on the door loudly.
"I told you before to leave me alone!" Emma screamed.
"Woah..." I breathed out. I had not been expecting that. "Emma, it's Harry."
"Go AWAY!" she screamed louder, her voice breaking off at the end, as if she were sobbing.
"No, I am not going to leave," I replied in a firm voice.
"Damn it, Harry! Leave me the hell alone!"
"I'm not going to leave until you tell me what's going on."
"Then you'll be standing there until you die!" she sobbed, and I heard something else fall to the ground, making a loud thud.
I try to turn the doorknob but it's locked. I begin to pound on the door and tell her to let me in but she refuses to grant my wish. More things are being thrown, shattering, while Emma continues to scream. At this point I am frantic. I need to stop Emma before she hurts herself.
Taking a deep breath, I take a step backwards. Closing my eyes tightly, I prayed that Emma was unharmed. I opened my eyes as I took another deep breath right before I charged the door. The hinges broke and the door flew open, with me stumbling in behind it.
"What in the hell, Harry? Get out! Get the fuck out!" Emma shouted at me, already trying to push me back out through the broken door.
I stood tall, with my feet firmly planted. Emma struggled to push me back any further and resorted to punching me. I wrapped my fingers around her thin wrists and managed to stop her from hitting me.
"No, I'm not going to leave you alone," I told her again.
"Then let go of me," she growled as she struggled to squirm out of my strong hold.
"I will never let you go, Emma," I replied in a soft tone, looking straight into her eyes.
"Harry, please just... leave me be," Emma finally broke. Tears began to trail down her cheekbones.
"How can I leave you when you're obviously upset? I would feel guilty for not trying to make you feel better," I told her, releasing one of her hands so I could wipe away a few of her tears.
"Because leaving me alone is what I want, Harry. I can't handle being around anyone right now," she replied, her voice quivering as she spoke.
"It looks like you can't handle being left alone either," I murmured as I looked around the room.
Books and clothes were strewn all over. The bed was flipped onto its side, leaning over a bedside table that had been knocked down. A few pieces of broken glass glinted in the sunlight that was showing through the window shades. Emma practically decimated the room.
"What happened, Emma?" I asked, looking back at her. Her gaze was set to the floor.
She wiped away her tears with the back side of her hand, remaining silent.
"Emma, please, will you tell me what happened? Will you tell me why you went on a rampage and started throwing shit?" I asked her.
"No," she whispered.
"Why not?" I questioned, becoming frustrated.
"Because I said no and I don't owe you any other kind of explanation," she told me, finally meeting my gaze.
"Fine, don't tell me! I'm sorry for trying to be a good friend and wanting to know what is making you so upset."
She opened her mouth for a few seconds before closing it again, her lips forming a thin line.
"Sometimes, people don't want pity from others. Sometimes, people don't share their feelings for other people's well being. Sometimes, things are better if they are left unsaid," Emma spoke lowly before she stepped around me and left me standing alone in her destroyed room.
"Holy shit, what happened in here?" Anna asked from behind me, standing in the doorway in shock.
"Emma, she got upset over something. I tried to get her to talk to me about it but she got mad at me," I answered in a hollow voice.
"Then you have her right where you want her. Go and try talking to her again. Don't give up just yet, Harry," Anna encouraged me.
"Okay," I replied quietly as I stepped past her and started looking for Emma throughout the flat.
Emma
Why can't people understand that I just want to be left alone? That's all I want. Today is hard enough to handle as it is! I don't need people bothering me. Especially Harry, but he seems to be the most dense of them all. He won't leave me alone, he's always pushing my boundaries.
I pushed my hair back and let out a frustrated sigh. The kettle I had put on began to whistle in a high pitch, pulling me from my thoughts. Reaching out to grab it, I turned off the stove burner. Relaxing my tense muscles, I poured myself a large cuppa. I leaned against the counter and sipped at the London Black tea that was in my mug.
"Do you mind if I pour myself a cup? I love London Black tea," I heard Harry's low, raspy voice ask behind me.
"Sure, go ahead," I said calmly, trying to remain in my relaxed state of mind.
I closed my eyes as I tried to block Harry's presence out. It wasn't too hard at first when all he was doing was making his cuppa, but then he began to hum an unfamiliar tune under his breath. I was about to tell him to knock it off, when my phone rang. I was completely fine leaving it to go to voice mail, but my curiosity got the best of me. Pulling my phone out my pants pocket, I looked down at the illuminated screen to see who was calling. And just like that any and all parts of my body and mind that were relaxed flared up with anger once again.
"I am not talking to you," I snarled into the phone after I pressed the 'answer' button. "You made your choice, I'm only abiding by it. Goodbye mother."
I slammed my phone down onto the counter, face down. The sound of cracking glass let me know that I had used enough force to crack the screen of my iPhone. Just perfect. I let out a scream in frustration, as I held my head in my hands.
"Woah, there, kitten," Harry chuckled, as he stood opposite of me in Niall's kitchen.
"Shut. It. Styles," I growled at him. The small smile that was on his face, fell immediately. He reached out for my hand, but I flinched away. "Don't touch me. God, what part of 'I want to be left alone' can't you people understand?! Is there a neon sign above my fucking head telling people that they should keep aggravating me because I find it fun to deal with?" I yelled to no one in particular.
"I don't see anything above your head," Harry spoke.
"Not helping yourself, Styles," I snapped at him.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, holding his free hand up in defense, his cup of tea in the other. "Why won't you talk to your mum?"
"Oh my god, Harry! Are you deaf? I just said - "
"I know what you said, I heard you clearly. You never said how people were aggravating you so how was I supposed to know?" Harry cut me off.
I opened my mouth to reply with a smart-ass remark, but I had nothing. Everything I've told him seems to have gone in one ear and out the other. I closed my mouth and shook my head in disappointment.
"If you don't know what's been upsetting me, then you haven't been listening as well as you think," I told him before I left him standing alone in a room once more.
I walked back to my room and flipped my bed back over with ease. Once it was back in place, I sat cross legged in the middle of it. Closing my eyes, I tried to picture my dad with his dirty blond hair and his thick mustache. I tried to picture the way his eyes would turn to a steel grey in the winter and be a bright blue in the summer, the way his nose was just a tad big for his face, or his bushy eyebrows... but I couldn't. I couldn't picture my own father and it's only been one year. I should still be able to see my father's image in my memories one year later.
So why can't I picture him anymore? What's wrong with me?
"Emma, are you okay?" Harry asked, knocking on the broken door.
I sighed deeply, and then hiccuped as tears caught in the back of my throat. I'm tired of fighting everything, of keeping everything bottled up inside. I'm tired of not talking to anyone. I'm tired of not trusting Harry.
"No, Harry, I'm not okay," I admitted quietly, a sniffle forcing its way out as a tear slipped from the corner of my eye.
"Do you want to talk about?" he asked me, hesitantly.
I sighed again. Of course a part of me wanted to talk about it, badly too, but another part of me wanted to keep to myself. The less I share of my problems the smaller the chances of Harry getting hurt in the long run. But I really want him to know. I want him to pull me close and hold me in his arms, whispering to me that everything would be alright. I want him to kiss me softly on the forehead to comfort me the way he always does. But I can't talk to him about this so I tell him;
"No, I don't."
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked me a second time.
"I said no, Harry," I repeated, a little confused.
"And I don't believe you. I can see it in your eyes, Emma. So I will continue to ask you until you agree to talk to me. Do you want to talk about it?"
"My god, you are stubborn," I grumbled.
"That isn't an answer," he said crossing his arms over his chest. His bicep muscles became more prominent and I couldn't help but become a little bit distracted. "Emma, I need an answer and it better be 'yes.'"
"Fine, I'll talk," I whispered, looking away from Harry. I took a badly needed deep breath before I began.
"I don't talk to my mom because she basically abandoned me. She hasn't talked to me in a year, and I gave up trying to reach her months ago."
"Why would your mum abandon you?" Harry asked, visibly puzzled.
"Because she couldn't think of anything but my father when she spent time with me. I look too much like my father in her eyes."
"Why would that be a bad thing?" Harry interjected.
"Because he was shot and killed, a year ago today," I murmured as quietly as possible.