The Lantern In The Lifeboat (I Wrote This For You) Author Iain S. Thomas

Harry's POV

It's been a month since I brought Willow home from the hospital. I insisted that I don't want her going back to work yet. She's angry with me because she thinks I'm being bossy and chauvinistic about the situation. Luckily, Richard agrees with me, he's allowing her to keep her job and in her absence an intern is handling the workload.

At this point life is running as smoothly as it can. However, things were the furthest from okay during the first two weeks. I let her lead the way, I figured whatever she wanted I'd give her. Day after day she wouldn't get out of bed, and if she did, she'd walk around the house pretending nothing was wrong. I knew that neither was a good option, either way she was hiding. Hiding isn't healing, hiding is delaying the inevitable fallout.

She continued sinking deeper into a very dark place, I was terrified if I didn't do something quickly, I'd lose her forever. That light in her is my lifeline and I'm scared if I lose it, I'll simply drift away myself. I guess I need her as much as she needs me, maybe my actions are selfish, either way I'll do anything to help her. I want to be her lighthouse, guiding her home when she's desperately lost in the sea of her own fears.

My motives aren't entirely self-serving, for the sake of Lark and Lily, I've researched day and night for the answers to the endless questions I have. Bottom line, I need a plan to bring Willow back. In the end this isn't just about what's best for the two of us. What matters most is helping these two innocent girls. They've been through so much heartache, at the very minimum they deserve unwavering compassion, support, and a sense of normalcy in their lives. At this point I'm not sure what our new normal is supposed to look like, but without a doubt I'm going to find it. If both adults are struggling to stay afloat, we're destined to fail at helping them adjust.

The internet has endless advice regarding helping victims of violent trauma. One thing I've learned, all suggestions are not universally applicable. Thus, everything has been trial and error.

This brings me to when I decided she needed a daily routine; setting a schedule for Willow has helped tremendously, especially during the day. Waking at a certain time, helping me get the girls ready, packing lunches, driving them to school, going for a walk, picking the girls back up in the afternoon, making dinner, and helping Lark and Lily with homework. We do it all together, and it keeps her from obsessing over what she could've done different to prevent what James did to her. It gets her out of bed and interacting with the girls.

There are days that things don't go according to plan. It kills me to see how much Lark and Lily miss their mother when she hides away in our room. She completely disconnects from all of us. When my efforts fail to bring her back, I do my best to distract them. I've gladly assumed my position as a father figure in their lives, I'm in this for the long haul. 

The days Willow isn't present, the girls and I do homework, cook dinner, and play games together as much as possible. I still see the hurt in their eyes, but I don't know what the hell I'm doing here. I've never had to parent anyone before, I've hardly had a chance to make any adult decisions on my own. But this is a sink or swim situation, I've chosen to learn how to swim, and fast. It's the least I can do to get them through this.

Regardless of experiencing similar anxieties, Lark and Lily handle things differently. They each need different comforts to help them cope. Lark has a lot of things she wants and needs to say, she just can't speak them out loud. I bought her a journal matching mine, at bedtime I tuck her into bed, leave her bedside lamp on and she journals until she falls asleep. Lily has trouble getting to sleep on her own, almost every night she asks me to lay with her until she drifts off to dream land. When she's sleeping, I go back to Lark's room, put her journal on her nightstand, shut off her light and head to my room to take care of Willow. It's just what my evenings have become, and I've done it so many times I feel like I'm on autopilot. Which I absolutely despise, I don't want anything in our lives to be done mindlessly, I want it all to be genuine. I love them so much.

For Willow, nighttime is generally when the worst of her troubles begin. I can place a bet that almost every night she'll wake from a horrible dream. Disoriented, sweating, screaming and trembling. My instinct is to hold her, but it takes a while for her to realize I'm the one consoling her. She physically fights me until there's an awareness that I'm the one with her and not James.

Immediately melting into my arms, I cradle her until she falls asleep. Once I'm convinced that she's out, I cry alone in the dark. Every ounce of her pain feels like a knife is piercing my heart then being twisted. It's agonizing, I have no other words to describe this feeling.

Regardless of how this affects me I can't fall apart on her, so I hold it in until she's not around or in a deep sleep. This has caused many sleepless nights on my part. After I have her calm, it takes a while to get my shit together. Sometimes it takes longer than others. Most of the time this process runs into the early morning, so I don't even bother going back to sleep.

I'm utterly exhausted and lost. My lack of sleep mocks me when I look in the mirror. Dark circles under my eyes, and I just look frail. Not only do I not rest much, I don't eat much either. I'm too busy taking care of everyone else. And besides, sometimes I just can't stomach the idea of eating. Not only is Willow haunted of images from that day, but I am as well.

None of that matters though, because I'd sacrifice an eternity of misery just to take her fear away. Willow, Lark, and Lily are my life now. It's my job to protect them: emotionally and physically. I've failed miserably at this once and I'll be damned if I let it happen again.

No one seems to recognize this inner struggle I'm battling, at least to my knowledge. And I intend on keeping it that way. I'll worry about processing all of this when I get them better. I'm fighting many demons myself, but my compulsion to fix her supersedes my own needs. Anger, frustration, fear, sadness, and lack of confidence have become my worst enemies.

There're times when I become so angry, I want to scream, throw things, hit something...whatever it takes to release this pent-up rage. However, I'm terrified to let it go. I know the moment I explode it won't be pretty and not only will it scare me, but Willow as well. I refuse to allow my feelings to punish her any further. This leaves me with only one option, I just have to suck it up.

***

I drag my tired ass into the studio two hours earlier than I'm expected, a latte with three fucking shots of espresso held tightly in my grasp. Being a creature of habit, I arrive with my satchel tossed over my weary shoulder. Depending on my mood the contents vary, today it's packed with my leather-bound journal, my worn-out copy of I Wrote This For You, and my rescue inhaler. 

My journal contains some of my most prized possessions; my thoughts and emotions scribbled in words and scattered illustrations, my favorite picture of Willow and the girls, and the very first picture Lily ever drew for me. All these things provide me with a sense of safety and peace, something I have trouble finding lately. As for my inhaler, I've noticed a coincidence between my stress level and more frequent asthma attacks. And finally, the poetry within I Wrote This For You has been floating around my mind for days. I don't know whether the words are inspiring me, torturing me further, spurring an epiphany or simply mimicking my current emotions.

For the first time in ages, I poured myself back into my Paige skinny jeans with my feet clad in my favorite Chelsea boots. I wanted everything to appear normal to the rest of the world. My traditional attire most recently has been joggers and tattered t-shirts, I hadn't shaved and barely had time to shower. To put it bluntly I looked like shit, and I knew everyone would know something was up if I came to the studio like that today.

Is it sick that I have the wherewithal to make these conscious decisions now, when I couldn't be bothered to groom myself when I was hidden from the rest of the world? I don't know what I'm trying to prove, or what I'm hiding from. What's the worst that can happen, my three best mates tell me to get my fucking act together? Maybe that's the problem, if they knew how badly I'd been neglecting my own personal needs, they'd force me to stop. If I'm focused on myself, I can't take care of Willow, Lark, and Lily, right? Or maybe I'm selfish and I want to be the one to save them without anyone else's help. Fuck if I know, my head is such a clusterfuck right now. I have no clue what I'm doing, saying, or feeling at any given moment.

Regardless, today is the first time back at the studio, I've decided I'd put on a happy face and pretend everything is ok, when it's quite clearly not. We took the last three weeks off from recording until things could settle down in my life.

I called Sam last night and asked her if she'd come over and keep an eye on Willow and get the girls ready for school. I knew Willow would still be sleeping when I left, and I hate leaving her alone right now. I just never know when she's going to have another nightmare.

Finding myself here earlier than anyone including the studio hands, the band, and the producers didn't happen by accident. I'm so emotionally exhausted that I need a couple moments alone. I'm blindly trying to navigate the nightmare that is our life right now. Having her and the girls live with me isn't the nightmare at all. In that I'm happier than I've ever been. It's coping with the pain that is torturing all of us which is more than I can bare.

Pacing back and forth in the hallway I'm sweating, wringing my hands, shaking and then tears start to fall. I fear the floodgates have opened now that I'm alone, and I'm not sure I can close them again. That scares the shit out of me, like I've said, I need to be strong for my girls.

My bag falls to the floor as I run to the kitchen splashing cold water on my face to calm down. Unfortunately, that does no good. I whip open the fridge and grab a bottle of beer. Twisting the cap off I scold myself for having little to no self-control. I chug the cold liquid and it pours down my throat. The chill does nothing but make me tremble more. Not only are tears falling, I'm full on sobbing on the floor now. I feel utterly helpless.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?" I cry out to no one but myself and whatever god cares to answer my prayers.

"Harry, what's going on?"

Apparently, Niall decided to come to the studio early too.

"What are you doing here Niall?"

"I'm here because I know you Mate; we haven't hardly spoken in weeks. And when we do, you're completely void of emotion. I knew something was wrong when you asked Sam to come over this morning to be with Willow while she was sleeping. You need to talk to me man."

"I don't have anything to say."

"For fucks sake, talk to me."

I throw the bottle at the wall. Glass shatters and what's left of the beer puddles on the floor. Out of nowhere, I'm having a flashback to when I found Willow in her room. I start screaming and gasping for air.

The amber colored glass no longer looks that shade, it's like the clear glass from the shattered picture frame that James smashed her head into. The beer changed to a shade of crimson, just like her blood gathering around her beautiful face on the floor. I can't make the vision go away, I know I'm not in that room, yet my mind refuses to accept it. I'm in some sort of trance and my brain has decided to develop this sick fucked up mirage that I'll never be able to unsee. I've never been more aware and yet unaware of my surroundings in my entire life.

Niall kneels to me on the floor trying to console me, I swat him away. Once again, I know it's not James, but for some insane reason I also don't believe it at the same time.

"Stay the fuck away from her James. I'll fucking kill you."

"Harry, stop...listen to me. It's Niall. James isn't here, they locked him up."

The room is spinning, and I continue to wheeze.

"Niall, what the fuck is happening? Where's Willow?"

I'm still wheezing.

"I think you had a bit of a flashback H, and Willow is at home safely with Sam."

"No...I need to hear her voice. Call her please."

"Not until you use your inhaler Mate. Do you have it with you?"

I gasp a few short breaths and point to my satchel on the floor. He grabs it for me, and I take two quick puffs then collapse on the floor. I can't even lift my lifeless body, and I continue to cry.

"Look H, I'm taking you home. I'll tell everyone you're sick or something. You're in no shape to be working today."

"I can't let you down too. I've let Willow and the girls down. I can't take care of anyone, I'm so scared."

"You're not letting anyone but yourself down. You're not going to be any good to anyone if you don't take care of yourself."

"I don't have time for that." I scoff.

"I hate to break it to you, but you don't have time to not do it either. You're falling apart, and Willow is going to notice it soon, if she already hasn't. You can't hide this from her."

"I can't tell her; I won't burden her with this."

"By suffering this way, you already are Harry."

"What do you suggest I do Niall?"

"Allow yourself to hurt with her, tell her how you feel. Maybe she won't feel so alone. And for fucks sake let us help. Don't carry all of this on your shoulders. Sam and I are here whenever you need us."

"I can't ask that of you."

"You're not asking, I'm just going to do it whether you like it or not."

"I'm so scared for her; I'm scared for all of us. We're hurting right now. And I'm so angry..."

"I know you are; you've never thrown a glass bottle at my head before."

He nudges my shoulder and gives me a little smile.

"This is true, I feel like my anger with James and the situation in general keeps bubbling up to the surface. The only way I can describe it is that I'm feeling aggressive. I want to hit things and break them, and that's not like me."

"No, it's not. I think maybe it's time you get back to boxing H. Maybe you could take some of that rage out on the bag or in the ring."

"Do you think that'll help?"

"It's worth a shot."

"I'm so sorry Niall."

"Don't be sorry, you needed to get this out of your system. It's obvious you've been holding onto it for a while."

"I'm glad you were here with me. Thank you."

"I'm glad you weren't alone too. Let's get you out of here before anyone shows up. I'll drive you home."

"Yeah, let's go."

***

It's just after midnight and once again I'm jolted from a temporary sleep state. I don't think I've reached the phases of deep or REM sleep for weeks. My body is constantly on alert, ready to protect Willow from whatever horrors will come haunting her in the dark. 

"Please no, I can't breathe. You're hurting me James."

As if on cue, another nightmare begins to consume her. Instinctively she grasps her own throat, clawing at her skin. She's trying to pry his hands from her neck, I know they're not there, but they may have well been. To her, she feels them, and to me, I can see them. And I'm so fucking angry. Her screaming and pleading is becoming more than I can bare. I don't know how much longer I can do this. But no matter how much I doubt myself, my love for her overpowers all of that.

I gently wrap my arms around her body and swaddle her like a baby. She thrashes her body trying desperately to get away from me. Her nails dig into my skin and I feel bruises developing on my shins. Tonight has probably been the worst I've experienced, she's more terrified and I'm taking more of a beating than I normally do. My adrenaline is so high, it doesn't faze me anymore. In the back of my mind, I know I'll feel and see the evidence in the morning. I can deal with that, but the problem is she may not be able to deal with it. Every mark she leaves on me, she punishes herself for the next day.

"Angel, I need you to wake up. It's Harry sweetheart, James is gone. I've got you, you're safe now."

"Nooo."

She screams again, thank god the girls' rooms are on the opposite side of the house. I pray that they don't hear this.

She's still fighting me, and I don't know what to do to make this stop. I can't seem to get through to her this time. So, I keep my distance and I sing to her, maybe that's the only way I can break through.

You tell me that you're sad and lost your way

You tell me that your tears are here to stay

But I know you're only hiding

And I just wanna see you

You tell me that you're hurt and you're in pain

And I can see your head is held in shame

But I just wanna see you smile again

See you smile again

But don't burn out

Even if you scream and shout

It'll come back to you

And I'll be here for you

Oh I will carry you over

Fire and water for your love

And I will hold you closer

Hope your heart is strong enough

When the night is coming down on you

We will find a way through the dark

(I DO NOT OWN THIS SONG: THROUGH THE DARK BY ONE DIRECTION)

I flip on the bedside lamp, take a few deep breaths to gather myself and she seems to be coming around. No longer physically attacking me, but she's sobbing real tears.

"Baby, are you awake? Can I touch you now?"

She looks into my eyes and she's petrified, but not just because of her dream this time. I can tell something is different. She's scared that she's hurt me.

"Harry what have I done? I hurt you, didn't I?"

I wrap her in my arms again and kiss her forehead.

"No Sweetheart, I'm fine."

She gently pushes me away to examine my face and arms.

"No Harry, your lip is bleeding and you have scratches all over your arms."

"I swear, it's fine Willow, I can't even feel it."

"It's not fucking fine Harry. I hurt you, I can't do this to you anymore."

"Willow, I need you to look at me right now. You were having a nightmare and trying to protect yourself, and..."

"Protect myself from what, my thoughts?"

"No, from James, you didn't do this on purpose."

"This may not have been intentional, but I did it and I won't do it again."

"What does that even mean?"

"I don't fucking know."

I hold her close to my body, she struggles to move away. As I assumed, punishing herself for hurting me, and I won't let her do it.

"I'm not going to let you punish yourself. I'm fine, and we're going to get through this. I promise you."

She pulls away to make eye contact with me.

"How?"

"I'm not sure Baby, but I'll never stop fighting for you."

She starts sobbing again and collapses onto my chest.

"I'm so sorry Harry. I don't know how to make these nightmares stop. I don't wanna live like this anymore."

"I tell you what, tomorrow we're going to dedicate our entire day to getting some answers. I'll call Sam and ask her to take the girls overnight. We can put all our focus into figuring this out. I can't promise you this isn't going to happen again, because it probably will, but we're going to figure out how to make it happen less often until these thoughts don't haunt you every night. Ok?"

"Ok, let's do it. Thank you, Baby. I love you so much."

"I love you too Darling. Now let's try and get some sleep, we have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

"Will you finish singing the song to put me back to sleep?"

"Of course."

I give her a tender kiss, pull her body close so she can rest her head on my chest as I comb my fingers through her hair.

I wish I could take you to the stars

I'd never let you fall and break your heart

And if you wanna cry or fall apart

I'll be there to hold you

You tell me that your hurt, it's all in vain

But I can see your heart can love again

And I remember you laughing

So let's just laugh again

But don't burn out

Even if you scream and shout

It'll come back to you, back to you

Oh I will carry you over

Fire and water for your love

And I will hold you closer

Hope your heart is strong enough

When the night is coming down on you

We will find a way through the dark

And you don't need

You don't need to worry

And you will see it's easy to be loved

I know you want to be loved

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

Through The Dark By One Direction (I do not own this song or lyrics)

Finally, she's fast asleep, her sniffling has stopped, and her breathing is steady. I breathe out a sigh of relief and I let the tears flow. I'm so fucking scared for her right now. This was the worst nightmare by far. Even when it was over, she was so angry with herself. It's like there's a constant battle in her head, no matter what, fear, self-doubt, or anger is monopolizing her mind.

The Way Glass Breaks ( I Wrote This For You) Author Ian S. Thomas
I think this may be her rock bottom. She's fed up with feeling this way and she's tormented with guilt for injuring me. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to erase nights like these from her reality.

My body is wracking with sobs. I try to control the shaking because I don't wanna wake her up again. I know she'll worry and be frustrated and angry with herself. But I can't tell you how difficult it is to watch someone you love with your entire heart and soul, become overtaken with fear.

Slowing my tears, I gently brush my thumb across her cheek. I can't keep my eyes off her, for two reasons. One, seeing her get a few moments of peaceful sleep is priceless. And two, I never know if another nightmare will creep into her mind.

Sleep isn't in the cards for me tonight, my mind is racing. I take out my phone and start doing some more research. Obviously, what I've done thus far isn't good enough or we wouldn't continue having nights like this.

It appears tonight Google is going to be my friend. I typed in domestic violence support groups Los Angeles and the first suggestion is an organization called Peace Over Violence (POV). There's a plethora of information on their website, so before I continue reading, I slip out of bed and quietly make my way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

On my way back to our room I grab my laptop and start to check out the services POV provides. The options range from one on one counseling, support groups, crisis intervention and there's a variety of training and awareness programs.

I take my time reading testimonies from their clients, I really think this is the place for Willow to begin healing. I've mentioned therapy a couple times and she's vehemently refused, but it can't hurt to mention it again. This isn't like just going and seeing a therapist, this is a place for her to feel understood. She needs to know she's not alone, because other men and women have suffered the same way she has. I think this could be a place she can go to learn from others, and they can learn from her as well. It seems there's something extremely cathartic about being surrounded by people who you've shared similar experiences with.

Willow's heart is purely made to nurture others, maybe she can find a way to use her experiences to help other's who've yet to escape their tortured lives, and maybe just befriend someone that she can heal right alongside. I don't know what I'm doing here, I need some help from someone who knows what they're doing.