A young American tennis player senses someone watching her while she practices, but when her stalker is revealed as singing sensation, Harry Styles, she finds herself falling for him-hard. Her life may never return to the way it was.


27. Nagging Me


I was watching, but unable to help.  It was all happening, and I was right there.  Yet it was as if I was in a movie.  Nothing I said or did could make a difference.

It was a rainy night.  I was watching myself, sitting on the couch, television on, but watching nothing in particular.  I had music playing from my I-Pod and a warm, fuzzy blanket drawn over myself.  The fireplace was blazing and warming up the room comfortably.  It wasn't particularly cold, but with the rain pouring down it was more for my enjoyment than my temperature.

Suddeny, I wa ssomewhere else.  Not the version of myeslf I was watching, but the helpless version of myself, forced to watch what was about to happen.  I was standing in the pouring rain, but my skin stayed dry.  Then I moved forward, now watching one particular car.

I recognized the people in it immediately.  My parents were laughing and talking, on their way back from a party.  They had been drinking, which ws foolish as my mother was having kidney problems.  She had surgery set up for the following week, but as they drove she suddenly doubled over in pain.  Their next stop was the hospital.

She could barely walk, but she managed.  She was strong.  They brought her in to surgery immediately.  Something had gone very wrong with their temporary treatment.  My father was told to remain in the lobby, which he did, for her.  He was pacing back and forth, very nervous, as the storm grew thicker and thunder sounded from somewhere distant.

His legs eventually grew tired and he was forced to sit.  He sat down, but didn't slouch.  He rested, but didn't relax.  He trusted her surgeons, but didn't stop worrying.

He heard the rain pound harder and the thunder sound louder, only second safter the lightning struck.  The doctors came out with news for my father. She was alive.  She was well.  She was healed.

He let out a sigh of relief he had been holding in for far too long.  Tears of thankfulness escaped his eyes.   He rushed over to help his wife.

She stood up using a metal cane.  He held her free hand to help her walk.  That's when the lightning struck.

It hit the building, an unfortunate, yet unavoidable situation.  It ran through the lower levels, quickly knocking out power.  Even the back-up generators were burned out by the powerful surge.  It creeped it's way up the building and the heart of it went to the emergency room.  My mothers room.  Where she was standing.  It went steraight through that metal cane.

The cane was supposed to help, but all it did was kill her instantly.  With it's evil ways, the lightning decided that getting rid of my mother wasn't quite enough.  It used her skeleton to crawl over to my father.  It went through him, temporarily stopping his heart.

Yet when the surge was over, the damage was already done.  She had died instantly.  He hadn't been able to get proper care.  Sure, they were in a hospital, but a hospital with no electricity.  No one could be treated.

Eighty-three people died.

Then I heard a voice.

"Erin? Erin?  Erin!?!" A familiar sound echoed, "Erin wake up!  Erin, are you okay?"

I was shocked back to reality.  I recognized the voice now.  It was Harry.  "Yeah, just a bad dream." I spoke, quicky analyzing the situation.

I was lying on Harry's couch, my head on his lap, while he and his friends watched television.  I must have fallen asleep after we finished our game.

Harry laughed slightly, "Well, it's a good thing it's just a dream. It's over now.  Just remember, none of it's true."  Upon seeing my blank reaction, he looked concerned, "Right?" he added.

I forced myself to laugh a little.  "Right" I finally spoke, ashamed for lying to a person I cared about so much.  I sat up and leaned against Harry, his arm falling around me.  He wasn't falling for it.  I;m not much of an actor.

He turned to face me.  "If you ever want to talk, I'm here for you." He spoke in almost a whisper, his face only inches from mine.

I responded almost too immediately, "Thank you" I responded in a similarly almost silent voice, mine cracking from heldback tears.  He noticed and pulled me close to him.  I now sat with my head in his shoulder and my feet furled up beside me on the couch.  I was happier than I ever had been, but something kept nagging me.

It was the fact that I had just dreamt of my parents murder, by the cruelest of all creations-Lightning.

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