Grip

If I were only able to grasp your hand, I would never let go.
If I could caress your cheek, then finally you'd know.
That no matter what, I'd always be here.
Loving you hopefully while you shedded a tear.
But then when I lost my grip, all would fall.
And I couldn't be loved after all.

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2. Chapter 1

It was impossibly hard to forget, but somehow I managed it. Was memory loss a side effect from it? I couldn't be sure.

I wasn't really sure of anything anymore.

Maybe I got distracted, while I was folding my cranes: all seven hundred and fifty six of them! Only two hundred and forty four to go. Maybe that was it.

All the same; I couldn't really be sure.

Every fold was special to me, every crease a mystery. That I could be sure of. The folding of one thousand paper cranes was a soothing remedy; morally better than any treatment the hospital prescribed. It was a fantasy; a story that could just save mine.

Maybe.

It's an old Japanese tale, saying that before her wedding day, a wife must fold one thousand individual origami cranes and then she may have her wish; her hearts desire.

My desire? To live. To love.

To of had a life worth living; something good to look back on. A life when I'm not immediately cast away; a wounded soldier in battle, reinforcements no where in sight.

A lost hope.

How then, did I forget? It may be the one thing that I can smile about in my life, as stupid and foolish as it may seem.

I was going to meet my idols thanks to the hospitals new scheme. I was going to meet one direction today: now. Because while I had been thinking it all over for the last two minutes, they were waiting, unsure, right outside my room.

All it took was an ushered, "Come in," to make my throat throb - communication was limited but yet I choose to speak. They filed in, one by one before seating themselves around me. The nurse quietly left as I mange to speak again, letting out a squeak of a hello.

"Hi there," Liam replied as he gently picked up one of the many cranes scattered across my bed, "What's this then?"

"A crane." I said as I took another piece of paper, decorated with daisies, "One of my seven hundred and fifty six cranes - fifty seven." I corrected myself as I finished folding my most recent one, "Only two hundred and forty three to go."

"Wow..." Zayn uttered as he too picked up another one, "But why?"

"It's, it's..." I began before my voice cracked. I shook my head, silently apologizing as tears sprang to my eyes. Why did this need to happen? Why me? Why now?

"No, no, no, no, no..." Niall hurried, "Don't cry - you don't have to worry; you don't have to answer..."

I shook my head quickly, they had misinterpreted my tears. Helplessly, I mimed pen and paper before Louis got the hint and retrieved a few sacred slips for me.

It's not the question

I wrote,

It's the fact that I am so helpless and vulnerable while your one direction. You shouldn't have time for me; we're from two different worlds.

They were all reading over my shoulder, but it was only when Harry was going to protest did I hurriedly start writing again.

The story of the one thousand paper cranes is a Japanese wives tale. It says that before her wedding day, the bride to be must of folded a thousand paper cranes and then her wish may be granted. The wish is my only hope.

"Well, what would you wish for?" Harry asked, staring at me expectantly, his jade gaze caught in mine.

Too live.

I wrote.

I can't afford the treatment I need to be cured, the only income I receive is from my Aunt who is your standard office worker. I get a donation from her each month - it's enough to pay for my standard medicine and just about enough to keep me alive. It's a kind gesture and asking for another two thousand pounds isn't fair. She's met me only twice since my parents died but she still supports me. She is the single thread of family I have left...

Should I be telling them this? I would only gain their pity. I felt their eyes all trained on me as I looked down at my lap where the cranes laid. I picked up another sheet of paper and began to work again.

"We.." Harry began before trailing off. What was he to say to one of life's rejects? A girl left forgotten; a hopeless case. "What's your name?" He asked instead, gathering that 'We're sorry...' was not what I wanted to hear.

"Sophia. Sophia Bell."

That was when I smiled. Subconsciously, I had spoken, I had said my name without a stutter or a crack. An elegant mirror that layed faultless in the ruins.

He smiled, "That's a beautiful name - and it's good to hear your voice."

I smiled again, grinning my teeth at all of them.

Then the nurse came back in, informing them that they had to leave to see the next patient. Harry gripped my hand tightly as they all said good bye with dismissive waves. But I held on to Harry's hand as he whispered quietly in my ear, "Until we meet again, Sophia Bell."

It was a sacred promise - a ray of light shining through the clouds as our hands let go and he waved goodbye, leaving with the promise of 'Until we meet again.'

Then I picked up the paper and began to fold while my hopeful cranes were crafted; my wish forming.

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