Paper Planes {One Direction}

Esther Bane was a completely normal human being, and a beautiful young teenage girl, until the day of the tragedy. The day changed her in the blink of an eye, and she soon found herself in support group once a week, trying to wake up from her nightmare of what happened that night in London. The night of the murder. The night of the nightmare, that kept hunting her night after night. Though Esther does have one happy thing left in her life, and his name is Harry Styles.
*Male lead bears no/very little likeness to the real Harry Styles apart from appearance*
[One Direction non famous]

17Likes
11Comments
3248Views
AA

8. New stories

I found my phone as I was hiding from the world in my bed. The paper plane was safe in my hand and the tears were streaming down my face with all the disgust I had inside of me. I looked at my phone. Harry and I were on the background and I couldn't help but let go of a little smile whenever I looked at it. Maybe I should call him? Ask him to meet up again and talk about what happened earlier? No... No I couldn't do that. I would just have to wait until next week when we were back at support group. This is where we could see each other again. 

I lay in bed for what felt like forever; playing with the little plane he had made. I snapped a picture of it just too always have, the paper plane with me. The symbol of dreams and travel. The symbol of being free. That's what it meant now, so maybe in the long run the paper plane was the symbol of my goal? To clean myself up and get out of this. To get back on the right track and become 'normal'. 

"Why do you have to make it so hard for me when I know you will never feel the same?" 

I was questioning myself, and just being really pissed. 

I got up from my bed and took the paper plane with me to my desk where I sat down. My work started. Yet another drawing was gonna go up on my wall and it was gonna be of Harry leaving the room. The look on his face was printed to my memory and I would be able to copy it exact and hang it on my wall. 

I drew for what felt like hours and even though the look on Harry slowly started to look scared and he was fleeing from whatever he was gonna say he still made me smile and I could still feel the spark in my body fill me up. 

"My Hazza..." 

The words were a whisper as I tried to finish my drawing. I wish he would never have to see this drawing, but I knew he would notice it if he was ever gonna come back to this place. 

Harry Styles the angel that saved me and made me feel happiness inside. Yet so misunderstood and far away, pushed and harmed by his own tortured mind and soul that has been damaged way too well by the past. What have they done to you my Hazza? What is bugging you enough to not sleep at night? Which living nightmare refuses to leave your mind? From what may you flee?

My texts on my drawings never made much sense, but that wasn't the point. The point was that I understood this and was able to tell my story through this with everything that had happened. 

I placed the new drawing on the wall and signed it with the right number and date so I would know which day I made it and what number it was. The number 307 was written with a curly signature and was now a part of the story on my wall. Beautiful and innocent, just like the rest, telling the dark story of my life. 

I moved on and placed another paper in front of me even though it had taken me a long time with the other. I started drawing and after about 45 minutes a perfect paper plane was drawn on the paper. I looked at my phone before playing a bit more with my drawing. It was 12.30 in the morning. Drawing Harry had taken me long but I may have been thinking over it way too long as well. 

I looked back down at the paper plane drawing. I signed it with my curls both the number and date was now printed to the drawing, but it still needed the story. 

My little paper airplane. So perfect made out of perfection and flashing everything I'm fighting for to the entire world. The dream of being free both from caring but also the addictions and the memories that has filled our bodies with all this poison. We're all abandon children to our father in heaven. He left us behind and to make sure we would be able to move around in the right patterns in life, working together with destiny. 

This is my spark of happiness and hope, and it will help me to the end. Thank you Harold. 

I looked at my drawing as I finished it. It was so beautiful. I loved it. I even liked the 308 I had out in the bottom corner of the paper. I got up and hang it on the right place right next to my drawing of Harry. I admired my work for a couple of minutes, and suddenly felt the sleepiness filling my entire body. I hadn't been able to sleep much lately, so maybe some hours sleep would help me heal? 

I lay down in my bed after getting ready and thought of the day. I had achieved something. A clean day from cutting. The anger and all the confusion that had filled me had gotten out through my drawing and I was proud of myself for taking a step like this. Food and no cutting both in one day. This must have been some miracle. 

I looked at the pictures I had snapped of my drawings and sent them to Harry. He had seemed very into them earlier and even though I didn't want him to see them something inside of me told me he would be happy when he saw them. I liked whenever Harry was happy, somehow it would always make me happy and make me try even more even though I was so tired of trying and just wanted to give up on everything. Harry was the reason I never gave up or gave in. He would make me fight for however long it would take me to get back to the person I was before all of this happened. 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...