The event changed everything, but a story can’t have a central theme unless there are walls to support it, roads that take you there and on, because I can’t just give you a fact and you understand it fully until I explain it. So here it is; I love Harry Styles, but the roads that I take you on to understand may not be one’s that you really want to travel, so heed the signs on the barren roadsides, and understand. I’ll tell you about the days, thirty before and thirty after, encompassing Harry’s attempted suicide.


66. 28 days after

28 Days After:  The funeral is small, but personal. All of One Direction attends. Amy Lee's father does not. Heather weeps into her father's shoulder, and Amy Lee's grandmother shakes her head like this isn't happening.  I hold onto Harry, to remind myself that he is here, he isn't leaving.  I hope that, wherever Amy Lee has gone, she has found magic that this world cannot yet handle. I hope she is relishing in it, and I hope she glows in death even brighter than she did in life.  That night, Harry and I sit on the roof for no other reason than we want to be close to the stars. His head is on my chest, but he eyes are glassy and distant, as if he is not right here, but a million miles away.  "What are you thinking?" I ask, though when he answers I wish I wouldn't have.  "I'm thinking that I don't deserve this. That Amy Lee deserves to live and don't. But I try to remember how badly she wanted us to just shut up and be alive."  I feel him smile, and I exhale in a bit of relief.  "We can take it a day at a time. And I think you should stop thinking about who deserves what," I huff. "We get what we get and we deal with it. Or love it," I add, and he looks at me upside down, and his eyes are glowing with appreciation and sadness.  "I know. Sorry."  

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