Hanging On

Katerine Willows was falling in two ways. She was falling into an unfathomable comatose, destroyed after her fiancé’s death and on a path of self destruction. Until her therapist forcibly sends her to Paris to help her pursue her once great career as a singer. Then she falls another way. A way she never expected to fall again. She fell in love. Will she allow the equally damaged Louis Tomlinson to heal her? Or will she continue down the cold and lonely road she started out on?

Hey! My first real writing, so fingers crossed! I know some of the things in here are cruel or messed up, but I don't mean anything against the people in it! It's purely fiction! Please enjoy and leave feedback! I'll update as often as possible. Xx -Alex

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1. Chapter One

    I zipped my final suitcase shut and put it on the floor. I sighed and picked up my coat. Not that I was excited for this. I didn't want to go to Paris. I didn't want to sing. I didn't want to go out and make friends. I wanted to stay in my room and sleep. Maybe this nightmare would end.
    "Are you finished?" My mom poked her head in.
    "Yeah let's get this over with," I said, my annoyance seeping through as I brushed past her. She blocked my path.
    "Stop. I'm sick of your attitude! This is good for you! You need to stop wasting yourself away like this! Your therapist-"
    "My therapist doesn't know SHIT about what I need. He gives me all these mind-numbing pills that mess with me and make me feel dead! I can't stand it. I'm sick of it! I want to know how much this hurts. I need to feel the pain! It keeps me sane, mom. Don't make me do this to myself." I was almost pleading.
    "Your therapist set this up because it will help you, Katie. It will. Just give it time. You need to realize that wasting away isn't going to bring T-"
    "Shut the fuck up! Don't you dare say his name. You have no right to bring Toby into this. Look, you're supposed to drive me to the airport. That's all. So just fucking do it and don't talk."
    I grabbed my suitcases and walked down the stairs out of my room. I threw them into the trunk and slammed it shut. I took one look around the familiar neighborhood, the streets. "Forget this place," I muttered.

    We made it to the airport without a word. We both sat their in silence for a minute, the tension growing thicker. "Okay bye," I muttered and stepped out. 
    "Wait, Katie, please I'm sorry." She tried to grab my arm, but I pulled away.
    "No it's totally fine, I'll get over it. I'm just a temperamental bitch, that's all."
    "Well, I'll miss you." My mom said and leaned in for a hug.
    I stepped back, her face falling. "I'll miss my plane." I didn't even look her in the eye when I said it.
    She paused, swallowing tears. "Yes, of course. Bye, Katie. I love you."
    "Yeah, you too," I said over my shoulder as I rolled my suitcases behind me. I didn't look back again.
    After checking in and getting everything in order, I boarded the plane. First class wasn't so bad, but it could have been better. I put my bag under my seat and put in my headphones. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep. 

    When I woke up, a stewardess was gently shaking my shoulder. "We'll be landing in about 10 minutes, miss."
    "Oh thank you," I said mid yawn. I stretched and looked out the window. Clouds. Of course. I checked the time on my iPod.
12:34 am. Great, I slept all day. Up all night it is. The voice came over the intercom and announced our landing. I gathered my carry on and we got off. I walked briskly into the airport and through all types of security. Finally, I made it to the luggage wheel and, praise God, found both suitcases. I wheeled my things to the last security stop and turned in my ID and passports. 
    "Welcome to France, I hope you have a wonderful time." The woman had a thick accent and I managed just a smile. I walked out of the airport and checked my phone;
    >Just landed, standing out front.
    >My driver will find you, just stay put.
    I looked up and tried to find him. Of course, no show yet. Who the hell was I meeting with anyway? My therapist never told me much about the man, just that he had an opportunity to help me. Like I wanted it. I was managing just fine without anyone's help. After a few minutes, I was playing games on my iPod.
    "Are you Ms. Katerine?" I looked up to see a man who appeared to be a driver.
    "Yes, I am. Are you the driver?"
    "Please come with me, it will rain soon. I will take you to your hotel so you can unpack and rest." We got in the car, a black
Sedan. Classy. I climbed in the back seat and the driver took my bags into the trunk. He sat in the driver's seat and we were off, the street lights illuminating the dampened, empty street.
    "You will meet Mr. Reddis tomorrow night at 7pm. I will collect you at 6 sharp. Do not be late." His voice was very cut and dry, down to the point. Like me in a way.
    We made it to the hotel and I was escorted to my room, the penthouse. It was gorgeous. After you opened the double doors, you walked into a small entryway surrounded by clouded glass walls. A small table stood there with a vase of lilies. To the direct right was the living room, with two giant white sofas, a table with a glass top, a plasma flat screen TV, and beautiful ornate paintings. To the left was the kitchen, with stainless steel everything. The polished marble counters and massive appliances made me smile. I walked forward into a small open area and found a solid oak door next to a balcony with glass doors. I opened the door and fell into heaven.
    The bed was a king size, four post solid oak bed with a canopy over top. The bedspread was completely white and a solid oak trunk stood at the foot of the bed. The bedroom was huge, the size of a house it seemed! I ran into the bathroom to find a bathtub, walk in shower with full body jets, a sink and counter that took up a whole wall and a mirror to match it, a full body mirror and, on top of that, everything was made from ceramic and solid stone marble. It was gorgeous. I walked back to my bed and looked ahead to see another balcony in my room. "Not bad, for a foreign country," I muttered. I was just happy that it was already paid for in advance, free of charge to me. Therapist benefits, I suppose.
    It was
2am now, and I wasn't tired. I decided to unpack my things. It took a while, but finally my clothes and bathroom supplies were taken care of. I decided to try and sleep. I got on my most comfortable clothes and brushed out my long red/brunette hair. I brushed, flossed and mouth washed, washed my face and took out my contacts. I turned off the lights and flopped onto my bed, shutting my eyes.
    I gave it what seemed like an hour, only to check the clock and find out it was two hours. I hissed in frustration. "I don't need this," I groaned. I knew my medication was in the bathroom. Truth be told I hadn't taken it in months, secretly if course. I was instructed to take one a night to prevent what my therapist called "terrors" or vivid nightmares, which was bad both mentally and physically. I stared at the bottle in my hand, the pastel blue pills inside. "What the hell," I muttered and knocked back two. It was only a minute before I felt the effects. I stumbled to my bed and managed to get under the covers before going completely black.

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