Last First Kiss [DISCONTINUED]

Drama, Love and One Direction, Hally has what every directioner could ever want, but is it all it's made up to be?

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54. Visiting Hour

 

Hally

 

I threw the magazine to the floor, sobbing desperately into my hands. Harry flew to my side and held me in his arms,

"What's wrong babe?"

"They know! EVERYONE KNOWS!"

I screamed, a nurse came running down the corridor, her shoes squeaking accordingly,

"What's going on in here?"

"This magazine has printed Hally's picture and her illness, they've invaded our privacy, again."

He added before kissing my forehead lightly and wiped away my tears, I felt betrayed. I'd always read that magazine and loved all the gossip. I'd lapped it up like a sweet, innocent puppy but now that I was the victim, it all felt so horrible. Invading celebrities privacy and love lives just for the entertainment of sad, little teenagers, like me, was just so stupid and all of a sudden I came to the realization that everything in my life was bad, except for Harry. I had Anorexia Nervosa, I felt desperate, I'd been bullied and then I was betrayed. There was  a crackle from the speakers and then a voice was heard,

"It is now visiting hour. Please make sure you are able to speak to any visitors, if not, please inform a nurse who will happily call the visiting off. Thank you."

I looked around me, my eyes searching for a knife of some sort. I couldn't bear to see anyone, nobody could of brought me out of the revere that I was suffering and each second it seemed to be getting worse. Harry had noticed my wild eyes and pale complexion,

"Hals, what's wrong? Do you need something? Are you going to be sick?"

I remembered that in the bag I'd brought with me, there was a pocket knife and it's blade a worthy 3 inches long. It would have to do, I thought,

"Harry, can you pass me my bag?"

I croaked, my voice hoarse from crying so much, he nodded and picked up my classic satchel,

"What do you want from it? Your tissues? Phone? If you want your phone then I'm deleting twitter from it, right now."

I shook my head and tried to grab my bag,

"Harry, can I have my bag now please?"

I whispered, gesturing for him to give it to me,

"What is it you want?"

"Harry. Now please."

I spoke with more urgency and he noticed,

"Tell me. Now."

he said, putting the bag as far from my reach as possible, still holding on to the thin, brown leather strap, I sighed, giving up, I knew he'd refuse, but I had to try. If I do it quick enough, he may not even notice I told myself, filling myself with false hope,

"I need a knife."

I said bravely, my voice bouncing off every corner in the room. His face filled with horror and he dropped the bag out of shock or because the thought of my bag containing a knife simply scared him. Harry fell to the floor in floods of tears. He was pulling at his clothes helplessly,

"I want it to end!"

He quietly screamed to himself repeatedly, I threw a book at the door to slam it shut, knowing everyone in the corridor would hear,

"Harry, I'm sorry. Please. Stop, your scaring me."

He looked up at me wildly,

"You think I'm not scared Hally?!? You SELF HARM, you try to KILL YOURSELF. Do you know how it feels?!? Knowing that your one true love could be gone at any second?!? IT HURTS HALLY. IT HURTS."

His eyes were bloodshot and his pupils dilated, I couldn't move, I was frozen rigid in terror. I knew I'd have to move the knife before he grabbed it and so, with a unsteady step, I got out of bed and grabbed it before putting my covers over my head and crying.

Suddenly, the door flew open.

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