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]


5. The drawings of my life

We pulled up in front of the house. Honestly I couldn’t help but to be nervous. Harry had tried to be happy all the way home, or maybe he was actually happy. I don’t know, but I liked happy Harry. He made me smile, which partly healed my heart. We stepped out of the car and walked in. It was the first tie he was here. Somehow I thought of it as his right place to be.

There was nothing special about the place I lived, besides maybe my room which was very different from the rest of the house. My room was very warm. The walls were a warm red colour and there were things all over the place, but what usually dragged attention to people’s eyes were the billions of drawings of a girl – a very skinny girl – crying with a painful quote or maybe somehow little story written beside it. These quotes were telling a very sad story, my story. I had drawn my own life, ever single part of it ever since my dad was killed.

I looked at Harry who seemed less surprised than the other people who entered this room.

“Is this your story?”

He stopped and looked closer over the about 300 drawings – one for each day – and looked like he was about to start reading it all.

“It’s what happened and has happened ever since…”

I trailed off and looked down at the ground insecure. The tears slowly started filling my eyes because of the thought of my dad.

“Esther, don’t cry.”

Harry stepped up in front of me and hugged me tight. The little spark of happiness filled me again which just made me cry even harder. How could I feel happiness with the things I had seen in life? How would I ever be able to feel normal with all the things that had happened to me?

I felt Harry look up even though he was still hugging me tight, but that was only for a short time before he reached out for one of the drawings on my wall. This made me let go of him and turn around. No one was allowed to touch my drawings. Not even my mother or Harry.


But I stopped myself when I saw the perfect drawing of the boy in front of me.

“You drew me?”

I nodded shyly and he smiled as he admired my work.

“Will you read it out for me?”

I took the drawing as if it was something fragile and very vulnerable which would ruing or burst into flames just by a simple touch. Before reading I cleared my throat.

“The new feeling has filled me. It’s strange, and for my body it’s a stranger. I don’t know whether to like this new feeling or not, but it reminds me of the safety I got from my father, and once again my body can feel a positive feeling. The feeling of being worshiped and the feeling of being happy. This is what you’ve done to me, just by sending me that smile and sharing your story today at Support Group.”

 “Is this how you really feel Esther?”

“I don’t know what I feel Harry. I’ve just been happy or at least I’ve tried to be as I’ve felt it inside of me whenever I’ve been around you.”

He didn’t look at me he just put the drawing back where it belonged. This was so strange and I didn’t know whether I liked the feeling of him being here or not right now.

He moved on over the drawings and stop in front of a dark drawing of a gun lying on a table, but the focus was on the gun. It was beautiful drawing. The big black handgun looked so innocent as it lay there with the cartridges were placed beside just look so misplaced and misunderstood.

“What’s the story of this one?”

He took it down and again got me to read out loud for him.

“Harry I don’t know if I can read this for you.”

“Do you trust me?”

He moved closer and looked into my eyes.

“I do… but I don’t know if I can tell you this. Some of these a pretty hard to explain.”

“Try me Esther Bane.”

I took a deep breath and looked at my gun. This was one of my best drawings and I loved it so damn much.


I read the text to myself inside of my head before reading it out loud.

“The day of the gun… The gun that has been with me wherever I’ve been going. The gun that has protected me, even in the night. I wouldn’t want to be without and yet here you are taken from me and out of my possession. My protector has been taken from me, so now I’m alone without you to take care of me.”

“I don’t understand it…”

I lay my drawing on the desk beside me and looked up at Harry.

“Shortly after my dad was killed I got myself a handgun. I took it with me wherever I went and it was my protector, because I was scared of everything and everyone. It was actually a miracle just getting me out of my room back then. I would scream and cry by the smallest movement of something and I just didn’t know how to cope with any of it. After a couple of weeks my mum got to know about the gun and she got the police to come out here and take it from me. It was a horrible day, because I actually felt safe just knowing that I had that gun with me, whenever I was in the centre of London, but I guess mum was scared I was gonna use it on her at some point.”


“I told you some of it was pretty harsh. It’s not everything that should be told Harry.”

I looked at him, but he just kept standing there looking rather scared of me. 

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