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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7. Chapter Seven

    "My childhood wasn't exactly perfect. My mom, Elena, was a dancer, always on the move, while my dad, Gregory, was a dedicated artist and was either showcasing or locked in his study. I never really saw them. We never ate together except on rare occasion. I took care of myself. I didn't have many friends and I wasn't about to blame anyone. I was a cold person, keeping to myself and snapping at anyone who said the wrong thing. After graduation, I met Toby. I had gone to one of his concerts and ran into him afterwards at the after party. We hit it off immediately. After two weeks we were dating. I was aware I was barely 17 and dating a 23 year old, but we were so in love. We were inseparable. I can't remember a better time in my life. He was my first everything. First kiss, first time, first love, first best friend...he was my everything. He saw through the front I put up, broke down the walls I built. He understood everything I did. He was just like me in every way. I loved him with every fiber of my being. I trusted him with everything and we gossiped like teenagers. He never told me much about his family and I didn’t ask. He offered me the same courtesy. We respected each other in that way.
    "After three months, I started to feel more comfortable with the whole fame thing and he started taking me places with him. I began to see a different side of him, one that was more wild and reckless. We would go to a show every weekend and hit the party at night, getting wasted and ending up passed out on top of each other the next morning. We kept doing it. I felt so alive and I lost control, embracing this carefree side I had never realized I had. I was drinking until I was shitfaced and couldn't even walk. Then, I was caught with someone else. Toby went insane. He promised to kill the guy and he beat me. I thought he'd never lay a hand on me ever. But he was just so drunk, so angry, I thought I deserved it. After a while I started hitting back, sick of it just me receiving abuse. He would kick, I would slap, we’d hit each other, break things, throw plates. We took it and forgave each other every time. He would apologize and promise he'd never do it again and I’d promise to try harder to understand what he was going through. Again and again, it was a cycle. We were so dysfunctional, but we loved each other and gave it another chance time after time.
    "He proposed a month later, and we let it to public. Everyone was in love with the idea and so were we. I remember my mom calling to talk to me about it, gushing over me and getting excited. She really began stepping in for me after that. I was hesitant at first but she said she was sorry for not trying hard enough before, explaining her and Greg’s divorce after I left. We became so close and I loved it. My dad just disappeared from my life. I hardly remember his face now. But I thought I’d have Toby forever so it was okay. I thought it would be okay, but I was wrong. 
    "It was the night before our wedding. We had gone out to try and spend some time together before leaving each other that night. We had gotten in an argument. He thought I had cheated again because of a photo that was released by some magazine. It showed me linking arms with my mom’s friend, Jason. He’d come to talk to me about the wedding and how he was coming with my mom. But Toby didn’t believe me. When we got back to the house, he hit me again but I fought back. I remember he held my wrists so tight, my hands were so blue. I broke free and made it to the kitchen, grabbing a knife. He began crying and I dropped it on the floor and we stood there for a while, crying on each other. He apologized and we just wanted to make it up to each other. He went out to get me a promise ring, saying he would never hit me again and I would never cheat again. I wanted to go with him; I wanted to do it together. But he promised it wouldn't take long, that I just needed to be waiting for him. On his way back, it started pouring, the roads became slick. He was only going 30, but he began to hydroplane. There was a semi. It was coming down a hill in the other lane. He was just going too fast, not even paying attention to what was in front of him. He just kept going until he heard the car squealing against the pavement in front of him.
    "You know what happened to the semi driver? Nothing. Not even an eyelash out of place. Toby was plowed over, his car completely obliterated. He died on the road, bleeding out all alone. I should've been there. I almost was. I was supposed to be in the car with him. When the cops finally came, they found him holding the rings and clutching the wedding bands to his chest. I had gotten a text from him, sent right before he died. It said "I know I screwed up, but I promise to love you forever." I didn't think much of it besides an apology and tried calling to hear his voice but he never picked up. He never did.
    "I couldn't even go to his funeral. I couldn't get out of bed. It was like I was paralyzed. My mom would come in crying, saying I needed to get up and greet the people who had come to pay condolences. Finally, I had enough of it. I stormed out to the living room and began yelling at them, throwing things, screaming for them all to leave. My mom was yelling back for me to calm down, but I kept going at it. Finally I went into the bathroom. I remember pulling the razor out of the mirror cabinet, bringing it down to my wrists. There was so much blood, and I tried to take a bath to wash it all off. I was so weak my head went under and I didn’t even try to come back up.

    “I woke up in the hospital, my mom in the corner. She slapped me and made me promise to never try and kill myself again. I had scared her and myself, seeing what I was capable of. That’s when she signed me up to see Dr. Langston. I hated him so much, listening to him try and pry the feelings and thoughts out of me so he could feel satisfied for himself. I can’t count how many times I exploded in his office, throwing books and papers around. One day I did open up and said Toby’s name for the first time in four months. He learned about Toby and all that had happened between us. I told him about my terrors and how I got headaches and vomited. I explained my out of control emotions. I thought he was going to help me. All he did was prescribe me with medications. I’m still on them after three months. Wellbutrin for my depression, Valium for the anxiety, Halcion for my sleep and nightmares, Lithium for my bipolar anger and Palladone for the headaches I would get after an attack if I didn’t take the Lithium. I stopped taking them after a month, without telling him of course. I felt dead when I took them. I couldn’t remember anything. I began having delusions and seeing Toby. But I couldn’t see his face so I knew I was just seeing things. I was vomiting, having cold sweats and erratic behavior. I tried explaining this to Dr. Langston but he didn’t want to admit to overdosing me and risk going to court or being arrested. Instead he set me up with Jack to try and get me interested in my career again. That’s how I ended up here. That’s my sad little story. I hate snapping at Louis when he says things like he does about Eleanor and me being like her, but I can’t help it. I know I should be able to understand what he’s going through because I did the same exact thing. I’m still doing it.” I hadn’t realized my eyes were closed until Harry kissed my cheek and they opened.

    “Don’t worry about Louis. I’ll take care of him,” he said. I frowned.

    “What are you going to do?”

    “Have him apologize for hurting you.”

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