Louis' Diary

Louis' secret's out, and now, you can see his inside thoughts on the matter. Live a few days in Louis Tomlinson's shoes, as he walks the path of recovery.
*Larry Stylinson fanfic*


3. Promises

Day 3:                                                                           

I don't know how long I slept yesterday, but I woke up this morning in a panic. My head was spinning and I was about to throw up. I had a terrible dream. I was stuck in a room, by myself. And nothing happened. I was just there, forever. I had too much time to think. Then, a little girl appeared. She had cuts all down her arms, like mine. And she spoke to me, with hatred in her voice. 'Why do you get help, and we don't? Why are you so special. I pass out from cutting, and no one ever comes and helps me. Why you? Why not me? Why?' The little girl scared me on a personal level. It was Daisy. I wanted to badly to call home all day, but I had no way of reaching them. So, after I'd woken up at about five, I saw Harry, huddled in the armchair. I called his name quietly, until he stirred. He lifted his eyes to mine, and tears sprung to my eyes at the sight of his usually flawless face. He had a bruised eye, and a cut by his lower lip. His left cheek was swollen, and he looked so tired. He got up, and lied on the bed with me, not saying a word. I couldn't help myself from reaching out to him, so I placed my shaking finger over the cut on his lip. He sighed, and pulled himself up, so he was leaning against the bed head.
"I went after the reporter." He said slowly, not looking me in the eye. As soon as the words left his mouth, he started sobbing. His head buried into my shoulder, and his body shook. I didn't say anything, I just hugged him. He finally calmed down, and I wiped the tears from his cheeks.
"You did the right thing Harry. I don't hate you, I promise. I need you to be OK, because if you're not OK, then how do you expect me to get better?" I say, softly. His hand slipped into mine, and he took a deep breath, then nodded his agreement. Then he had to leave again. The press haven't comeback, so I guess I'm old news. Not important enough. At least Harry's safe now. For the rest of the day, I was alone again until the doctor came in about an hour ago. He told me that he would let me out in two days, and that he was going to get a councilor in tomorrow to talk to me about my problems. I don't want to talk to a stranger about my feelings. He could just tell the press, and ruin me. I wish Harry was a councilor, because talking to him is easy. The doctor also told me to sleep, but how can anyone sleep in a place where people are dying every minute. So instead, I waited. Waited for a miracle.

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