Just a Distant Memory

The truth was Harry did want to kill himself that night. Losing the love of his life had truly taken its toll on the young boy, and fighting was at no avail..

The still water’s hue was crimson; blood smeared across the bathroom tiles, imprints of Louis’ frantic hands hastening to Harry’s side.

Water pooled over the sides of the porcelain, flooding the tiles and soaking Louis as he heaved the younger boy from certain death.

Harry’s wrists were bleeding. Blood mixing with warm water, dripping down his pale skin.

“Dammit, Harry.”

His hands shook viciously as he ripped the fabric from his denim shirt, wrapping Harry’s bleeding wrists. He glanced over, watching Harry’s eyes slowly begin to roll back and close.

“Don’t you dare, Harry. If you die- Christ!” Louis choked, tying the last knot to the denim adhesive. He wanted to go get help. He wanted to pound on Harry’s chest and yell at him for doing this, but it was no use.

"He wasn't breathing."

The author has rated this movella as yellow, meaning it is inappropriate for users under the age of 13.
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