Thirty Six - H
Harry’s point of view Two weeks. June 19th told me it had been two weeks exactly since she had gone missing, and I had still heard nothing.
After they had found the other blood in the apartment, I thought I would have something, some kind of news from anyone involved. But I had nothing. I kept my phone gripped in my hand as often as I could, just praying for some news, but no one had reached out to me. I would have thought that maybe they hadn’t told me because technically, me and Anna were no longer linked, maybe I didn’t have the right to know because I was nothing to her anymore. But that thought seemed ridiculous when I considered the fact that they were the ones who came to me, Alex rang me and told me what was going on. They had involved me, and they would have all known how desperate I was for more information, no matter how small. I held out hope, a part of my mind still telling me she could be okay. The other part of my mind fought that idea, forcing me to believe she was gone. I was constantly at war with myself, and because of that, everything about me became still. I could barely breathe, let alone move. On the best of days, I managed to drag myself out of bed, knowing that I would waste away if I continued not eating or drinking anything. I was grateful that I had a few more days off before the rest of the UK tour continued, because I couldn’t perform properly in the state I was in, but management were pushing us. Fans had begun to notice I wasn’t myself onstage, I could hardly be a performer when I could barely even find my feet. Every second I didn’t have to personally sing, I would just stand there, staring off into nothing, attempting to remain present, but it was near impossible. The fans knew us so well, they could tell something was wrong, and thanks to the fact my hands were still wrapped in bandages due to the glass that had dug into my skin that night on the tour bus, people were making their own predictions, and none of them were good. I was trying to get my act together for when we were next performing at the beginning of July, but I was struggling. It was the fact I had no answers, none whatsoever. Until a phone-call caught me off guard. The ringing noise stung at my tender eardrums as I remained in bed. I predicted it would be one of the boys, who kept ringing to see how I was. Other than that, my mum had called, understandably being painfully worried about me. She had wanted to come down, but I think comforts from her would have tipped me over the edge. It upset me enough in any normal situation when she came to see me, never mind with everything that was going on. I couldn’t deal with her affections, I couldn’t deal with anyone’s affections. I absentmindedly leant to grab my phone, my mind still elsewhere as I brought the screen in front of my eyes to see who was calling. My heart sunk as I saw Rachel’s name. I saw it as a bad sign right away. On some level, I was convinced that the only way I would be confident about her being alive and safe was if I actually saw her name brightening my screen. Seeing Rachel’s was a bad sign to me, setting off hundreds of alarm signals that conquered my thoughts. It felt like the best possible news I could receive from her over the phone would be just an update on our lack of information. But my heart leapt to the conclusion that she was going to give me the worst news imaginable. Sick rose to the back of my throat as I shakily swiped my thumb across the screen, absolutely terrified of what I was going to hear on the other end of the line. I tried to greet her as I held the phone to my ear, but nothing came, I just sat there with the phone pressed to me, not saying anything, waiting for her to speak. “Harry?” She said weakly. “Mm.” Was all I could manage. “Can you come round?” I sat upright in my bed, fright and anxiety advancing through my body as I wondered why she would possibly need me to go round to their flat. The worries and doubts and fears were already making my heart shudder, the vibrations of my anxiety shaking my entire being. “Why?” I gasped. “I just... I need to talk to you. Face to face.” “Rachel...” “You deserve more than hearing this over the phone.” She told me. She’s dead. He’s killed her. I held back tears for a second as I covered my eyes with my free hand, my face skewering as a slight whimper escaped my mouth. My body shuddered, all my organs seeming to fail me as I thought about the information she had just given me. She didn’t even mean to, she so desperately wanted me to find out in the correct manner, but something in the tone of her voice and something within me just knew what was going to be said when I got there. I wasn’t sure I could deal with it, I wasn’t sure I could really hear her mutter the words out loud right there in front of me. But Rachel was right, Anna meant more to me than a phone-call. “Okay.” I breathed. “I… I just need to… I’ll come round as soon as I can.” “Thank you, Harry.” I could tell by how weak she sounded, everything screamed that the girl I loved was no longer with us. Something strange happened to me in that moment. My mind jumped to her parents. I hardly even gave myself time to be selfish for my own loss as I thought about her mum and dad. They had lost both their children. Their son and their daughter both taken from them, both so young, both stolen from life by others. The driver of that car had taken Nathan, and the stalker who had wrote those haunting letters had taken Anna. I questioned how the world could be so fucking cruel. “I’ll see you soon.” She sighed. I couldn’t even speak again as I put the phone down, finally giving into my tears. My body was shaking furiously as I sobbed on top of my bed, my skin becoming clammy and overheated, gripping onto my hair as though I was trying to tear it from my head as I rocked back and forth, a shivering mess, so grateful nobody could see me in that moment. I was utterly broken. Maybe it was worse than feeling broken, maybe something more intense and empty than being broken would allow. I was nothing. That’s how I felt.
It was around 9pm by the time I had finally calmed enough to find the strength to go around, to hear the news that I knew was coming. I lost myself for a while, my mind saying I really couldn’t stand to hear it. I wouldn’t be able to be there in her home, in a place where I had made love to her and fallen in love with her. A place where I had ended things even though it was the last thing I wanted, the place I had told her I loved her, and meant it. I wasn’t sure I could be there to hear she was gone. But at the same time, I needed to. I imagined if she could see me from somewhere, wherever she may be, if she could see me and she could see that I didn’t even have the courage inside me, to go to that place we held so dearly and face the truth, what would that say to her? That wouldn’t prove my love whatsoever, it wouldn’t give any justice to the way I had felt about her. And in any way I could, I wanted to prove to her what she meant. Whether she was alive or not. I looked up to her front door. When I had come to end things between us, I had stood there for a few moments and done the same, thinking that I would never see that door again feeling as low as I did in that moment. Looking to it then, I wished that was true, I wished that moment was the lowest of my life, but this experience took over that feeling completely. My body controlled itself as I pushed forward slightly, leaving a light kiss against the wood, and that action alone comforted me for some reason, that action spoke for itself. I rested my forehead to the door with my eyes closed as I placed three weak knocks to it, not really wanting Rachel to answer, my legs already begging to run away from the upcoming situation, but I stood my ground, body shaking, throat dry, barely breathing. The door began to slowly open as I moved my forehead away from it, seeing Rachel stood inside, trying to smile. She looked tired, her olive skin seeming pale for the first time, dressed for comfort when usually she dressed so well. She was barely recognisable. “Hello.” She whispered. “Thanks for coming.” She stepped to the side and I entered, looking gloomily around their flat. I was glad to see it wasn’t really a crime scene anymore. The floors were clean, the window had been replaced and the word ‘six’ that was once on the wall had been painted over. It looked how it did when Anna lived there, it looked like her home. Rachel shut the door quietly behind me, before turning to look at me, giving me another poor attempt at a smile. My attempt to return it was just as laughable. “I didn’t want to do this over the phone.” She spoke. “I didn’t want to hear it over the phone.” Rachel nodded, and then moved to take my hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over the top of my hand, her smile a little stronger now. She had so much sympathy in her eyes, I couldn’t drop her gaze, it was the only thing comforting me in that moment. “They found her.” She said quite firmly. “When... How... When did...” I couldn’t even attempt to speak, so many question swarmed my brain. Where had they found her, how had he killed her, had they found him. Various queries clouded my brain so ferociously that I just couldn’t speak. “They let her out of the hospital yesterday and-” “They... They what?” I interrupted. I cowered back from her, my hand slipping from hers so I could run both of them through my hair, looking to her wide eyed as I took in what she just said. “She’s in her room sleeping.” Rachel smiled. I began blubbering like a baby, gripping onto my chest and moving so I could lean back against the nearest wall, an adorable little smile lining Rachel’s lips as she saw the relief I felt taking over my being. Regardless of everything, the happiness I felt in that moment was insane, it faltered my entire body as I became flimsy against the wall, my hot breath coming out in harsh pants, my heart beating heavy against the palm of my hand. “I thought you would want to see her.” Rachel cooed cheekily. “I thought she was dead.” I sobbed. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. That didn’t seem right. I know how much you love her.” I hurriedly moved forward and took her into an immense hug, holding her so tightly as I continued to sob into her hair. I couldn’t believe she was alive. I had done more than convince myself she had died, I had started coming to terms with it. I had spent the previous week since I had learnt the information convincing myself she was dead. I couldn’t fathom the thought of her being safe, of physically seeing her again. It was a shock to the system, it was like thunder striking the same place not only twice, but thousands of times over and over again as my heart rumbled in my chest, reacting to the electric shocks that impelled it, bringing me back to life. Finally I was alive again. I would say I stood there sobbing for about 10 minutes before I finally calmed, moving away from Rachel and having to take numerous deep breaths in, kind of giggling to myself as I did. “You okay?” She asked. “I can’t believe she’s alive. I can’t believe she’s… here. She’s home.” “Do you want to see her?” I looked down to Rachel with sorry eyes, wondering whether it was the best thing. We weren’t even together anymore, but I wanted to see her so desperately, let my eyes have the confirmation of her safety. “I’d love to.” I breathed. “She’s asleep, and it would probably be best if you didn’t wake her up! I don’t even know what her reaction to you being here would be.” “Yeah… I understand.” “And you can’t touch her. Even when she’s sleeping, she freaks out. She… She can’t quite get used to anyone touching her at the minute. It’s something we’re gunna have to work on, but at the minute even the slightest touch can send her spiralling. She’s not in a good state.” A rush of disappointment cursed my body at the thought of not letting my skin meet hers, but I understood. I didn’t even know the full details of what had gone on, but I understood. I would have to resist my urges. I nodded, having to take a deep breath in, already having to control my need to brush her pigments with my print. “What happened?” I asked, thinking I needed to know details. “It was a boy named Tyler. He locked her up, and-” “You know what, I’m sorry, I don’t wanna hear it!” I interrupted. “Not quite yet. I can’t. M’sorry.” She nodded, automatically stopping with the details I thought I wanted to hear, but I couldn’t quite deal with them at that point. “There is one thing you should know before you go in there. He… He stabbed her, and it was… She almost... She pulled through, barely, but the stitches are fresh. So just be wary of her stomach, okay? Just... please try not to touch her or wake her. Please.” My fists clenched by my side, needing to hit something or someone. I had done everything I could for the past few weeks to steer my mind away from the thoughts of how he might have hurt her, so to actually hear what he’d done made my blood boil to a level it never had before. I’m not even sure where I found my calm in those moments, maybe it was just the thought that she was okay and I would be seeing her soon, maybe that’s how I managed to get past that moment without breaking anything or lashing out. “What’s happened to him? Have they locked him up?” I controlled my pace and tone. “They didn’t get the chance. He killed himself.” She spoke quietly. I looked to the floor, not even wanting to ask any more questions on that matter, I just wanted to see her. I would find out everything I needed to later, I would hear the information at a more acceptable time, when I was mentally ready to deal with it, if I ever could be. I thought it would be wise if I could hear the details in a place where I was alone, with nothing I could possibly break of punch around me. I took a deep breath in and looked back to Rachel. “Can I see her?”
She smiled and nodded, before stepping up to Anna’s door. A weird fear entranced me for a moment as she pulled down on the handle, opening the door wide, finally revealing Anna to me. Everything else went blank. I had no idea what was happening to my vision, because literally everything other than her and the bed she lay in became white, complete nothingness surrounding the sleeping beauty that lay still atop her bed, slowly breathing, her mind thankfully in a world where the events of the last few weeks hadn’t happened. I cautiously stepped inside, beginning to move towards her, baffled by her beauty which was still so painfully apart. Her skin was pale, she seemed a little thinner than previously. A relatively light bruise marked her left cheekbone, and I could see a few cuts across various parts of her skin. But I saw past those things, and all I could see was the girl I loved. I heard Rachel shut the door behind me as moved to the side of the bed, kneeling down at Anna’s side, so wonderfully close to her sleeping frame, my face just inches from her. Immediately, it was killing me that I couldn’t touch her, but I didn’t want to scare her, and from what Rachel had told me, her bodies reaction to even the slightest touch, even when she was asleep, could send her into a frenzy. I hated that someone had done that to her. I hated that someone had changed her and made it so I couldn’t hold or touch her. He’d twisted something about her and created this aspect of her that he owned, and I couldn’t bear it. My breathing stopped for a second as she rolled on her side, a slight wince crossing her face she adjusted, soon facing me, her lips just seconds away from mine. As soon as my breathing returned I panted heavily to her lip, slightly edgy thanks to how close she was to me. Anna could do unfathomable things to my body. I couldn’t even comprehend what she did to me. I was so happy to see her there alive, inhaling in my shaky breaths as I lingered close to her, trying to control my wandering hands. But I lost myself. Without even realising, my hand had gone up to her cheek, gently brushing the back of my fingers across her cheek, totally subconscious, like I was being pulled to her. Panic struck me as soon as I snapped back to my senses, regretting the touch I had just given her and absolutely terrified of how her intuition and mind were going to react. I was stunned, just watching her. Love smothered my being in a way that almost suffocated me as she reacted to me in the way she always had, her skin lighting a little, her lips curving just slightly. I couldn’t believe it; her subconscious still recognised my touch, even in her sleep she was fully aware that I would never hurt her. Somehow, she just knew, and she wasn’t frightened. How could her body know that? How could there be so much passion and trust between us, that she knew that it was okay for me to touch her, even when she wasn’t awake. She seemed to sink into the bed even more, a small hum leaving her body as she comforted herself. I lost my control again as I moved forward, and affectionately pressed my lips to hers. I was soft, only doing it for the smallest moment of time before pulling away again, smiling to her. A small smile was created on her lips too as she came around, waking lightly. And she knew it was me. She calmed, because she knew.
“Hold me.” She whispered.
I stood up and removed all the layers that covered the top of my body, leaving me in just my jeans, kicking my shoes off and quickly moving round to the other side of the bed. I clambered under the sheets, and carefully moved towards her, slowly pressing the skin of my chest and stomach to her back. A perfect feeling of tranquillity overran me as she remained calm still, easing into my touch, pushing back into me. I wrapped my arms around her waist, and once again found myself kissing the tattoo on the back of her neck, unable to believe that I was there with her, able to touch her and feel her and she still felt at home in my touch. The spark between us, the passion we shared, was like a magic I had never known in my life. One I wasn’t prepared to lose.
“I love you.” I heard her whisper.
It felt like someone was crushing my chest in the best way possible, my lips turning into a wide grin without permission as I squeezed her a little tighter and let my eyes gently close.
“I love you too.”