Used // h.s (Completed)

Exasperated, that's what I was- am. My pride that was once stored within me has now vanished into billions of particles, dissolved and evaporated into the mass air that surrounds me. Lifeless: nothing more, nothing less. I lay, placidly, willingly, acceptingly, though, my body is no longer belligerent; it's given up.
My name is Kaitlynn Malik and this is my story.

Copyright.© 2014 All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission by the author.

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10. Chapter 10.

As soon as we reach the house, I run inside to try to reach my bedroom. As my foot lands on the bottom step, I am jerked back by a strong hand on my arm. I land, hitting the back of my head on the floor. I try to reach up but I am suddenly repeatedly kicked in my torso. Someone grabbed the top hem of my t-shirt before a fist contacted with my jaw. Suddenly, everything went black.

I try to open my eyes, but I can't. I try to scream at the top of my lungs, but no sound comes out. The only thing that I can do is lay, completely still, possibly dead, and listen to the voices that surround me.

"Zayn is going to kill us if he finds out." Someone says.

"This is all your fault. You shouldn't have ever started this shit." Another yells, the voice very close to me. Very familiar.

Started what?

"I-I'm so s-sorry. I d-didn't mean f-for this to g-go this f-far." Another sobbed. I think he is upset about what happened. What did happen? And why do all the voices sound so fmailiar?

I try to move. To give any sign that I am alive. To squeeze the hand that holds mine. But as I try to fight the urge to show some kind of sign, my body weakly and unwillingly falls back to the black abyss that surrounded me earlier.

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"I don't know if you can hear me or not, it's said that you're supposed to be able to hear. I'm so sorry. About everything. Please forgive me. Please don't hate me." The voice is very close and someone is holding my hand. He aqueezes my hand gently, trying to reassure me, I guess. Again, I try to fight this to wake myself up, but my eyes will not open and nothing is coming out of my mouth. I try to toss and turn. but I lay stiff. I decide that there is only one thing that I can do, I squeeze his hand gently back. To my surprise, I can feel my hand tighten before loosening. I did it. I moved.

"Y-you, you moved." He whispered in shock. He released my hand before yelling for a doctor. Seconds later, I feel the same hand wrapped around mine. "No I swear, she squeezed my hand." He yelled.

He leaned down and whispered in my ear. "Please, please babe if you can hear me, squeeze my hand again. Please." He sobbed.

I tried once again to repeat the action and succeeded. I was so happy to know that I am not dead. The last thing that I hear before I slip back into the black abyss is the nurse calling out saying that she was getting a doctor.

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The black abyss was a dreadful place and I only longed to be out of it. Just as my hopeful wishing came to an end, the black turned to white. I tried to open my eyes and was blinded by light. I tried to say something, but all that came out were whimpers, mumbles of words. I felt someone's hand wrapped around mine. I looked down to see a guy with brown curly hair, asleep holding my hand with his head laying on the side of the bed. I gently squeezed his hand, making him stir and look at me.

"K-Kait, you're awake." He smiled.

He looked so familiar, but who is he?

"W-who a-are y-you?" I managed to stutter out, still trying to regain my voice. His smile faded and he looked down at our intertwined hands on the bed. "A-are y-you m-my b-boyf-friend?" I questioned, still stuttering.

He shook his head. "Do you remember anything?"

I tried to bring back memories of him and I. Him tickling me. I tried to remember who the curly-haired boy was, but nothing came to mind; just memories.

In the corner stood a black-haired boy. I look back into the memories of us baking and him rubbing cake batter all over my face with the spoon. Of him chasing me around in the back yard with a water gun, making me squeal. Z-Zayn.

I look up at the two guys that stand in the room with me. "Z-Zayn?" He half-smiles before making his way to the side of the bed.

"That's right, princess. I'm here." He squeezes my hand gently before letting tears slip down his cheeks. He looks over at the familiar guy. "This is all your fault. I don't want you near her." He yells.

"N-no." I stutter, squeezing his hand gently back, making him look at me, shocked.

"Do you know what he did to you?" Zayn asks.

I shake my head. "B-but I k-know w-who he i-is."

Zayn's eyes widen at my response. It's true. I do know who he is, but I don't remember his name at all. He walks over to the side of the bed opposite Zayn, grabbing my hand.

"Who am I sweetheart? I know you know." He squeezes my hand gently and stares intently into my eyes. "What's my name?"

I shake my head. "I don't know, but I know you."

His head collaspes onto the bed beside our intertwined hands and he releases a sigh. I squeeze his hand gently, reassuring him that everything is alright. He lifts his head slightly to look up at me.

"You have to remember. You have to." He sobs.

"I- I.." I trail off. Who is he? Why did he call me baby and sweetheart? What are all those memories from? I gasp as I suddenly realize who he is. All the memories of us together in a tree, of me running from my home to his while my parents argued. "Harry?" I squeak out.

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