wow look at her, she's updating in 2020 !!!

if you guys are looking for an explanation as to why I've disappeared for ages, please read my note about it on Heavy Crown it's the latest update!

I don't even know if anyone still reads this book I reaaaaaally just wanna finish it off so here I am (:

WARNING: triggering, explicit content consisting of depression and self-harm. Read at your own risk.

≫≫≫

I keep fallin', I keep fallin', I keep fallin', down the rain

Keeps pourin', keeps pourin', I don't know if I can get up today

≫≫≫

A month later

  Harry was depressed.

  It had taken him a couple of weeks to fall into the deepest, darkest hole he had ever been in. Adriana struggled to help him climb back up and out of it because she was too distracted by her cravings and was busy fighting her own demons. It began when he started to feel as if his life was a dull, depressing movie. Adriana would come into his room to convince him to eat or spend time writing or playing music because those were things that were a part of his regular routine; things he once enjoyed doing. He'd end up refusing and they'd begin arguing. At that moment, Harry often felt like his soul was sucked out of his material body and would settle down in the corner of the room and just watch sometimes.

  Dissociation was what came before depression.

  Day by day he was feeling more and more detached from everything. His surroundings, his actions, his body: his life. He can see himself arguing with Adriana, words like knives cutting into her already wounded body. But he was just watching it happen. He had no control over this nor did he have the desire to want to control his words. He sometimes looked at Adriana and wondered to himself how she managed to take care of Mateo during her darkest hours of depression. He could barely drag himself out of bed to pee, yet there she was taking care of another human being.

  A very small part of him wanted to reach out to her for help. Ask her what little he could do to stop himself from drowning in this darkness. But for some reason a larger part of him didn't want to. He never understood why, but it was because he didn't want to burden her with looking after him. He didn't want to talk about killing Dean because he had worked hard on internalizing all of that gut-wrenching guilt he felt. He knew talking to her was like opening a can of worms, and he wanted to keep that can shut.

  He internalized every feeling and emotion to the point where he felt nothing. Just this numbness that haunted and ate at him for days on end. His soul was withering away like a flower dying in the scorching summer heat. A small part of him was well aware that his life was just wasting away and he needed real help. But that part of him struggled to stay afloat in the sea of darkness he was currently drowning in. That small part of him was terrified for his own future, scared that he'll never get over this. He'll never move on with his life and achieve his dreams.

  He'll never find happiness again.

~-~

  A luminous, blue light lit up Harry's face in the darkness. His tired eyes narrowed so that he was squinting at the screen, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. His stomach growled lowly, the obvious sign that he was hungry. But he ignored it, rolling over on the bed so he was lying on his back stomach now. He reached over for his laptop, flipping it open and immediately logging into Netflix. "Friends" started playing immediately, a TV show that always lightens his mood. But he couldn't bring himself to chuckle along with the laugh track in the sitcom.

  His eyes were focused on the bright screen. Shifting back and forth between the characters as the camera moved. But his mind wasn't there with him. It was drifting mindlessly. That feeling of dissociation. He wasn't even aware that it was happening. Outside his bedroom, Niall and Adriana spoke quietly. Niall comes over often to check up on Harry so he can work with Adriana on helping Harry get over the incident. Niall has been doing incredible amounts of research to educate himself on how to help Harry without having to seek professional help. They didn't want to get him an actual therapist because they knew that he would have to be honest about what happened and what actually happened is that he murdered another human being.

   "I think he's depressed," she whispered to Niall, fear evident in her eyes. "H-He just doesn't move o-or do anything anymore."

   "Jesus Adriana," he muttered quietly. He was angry to be honest because she wasn't helping Harry as much as he thought she would. But he had to keep reminding himself that she was facing her own battles and was taking care of a child at the same time. It wasn't easy for her either.

  Niall simply sighed heavily and turned to enter Harry's room. As soon as he stepped foot into the darkness, his face contorted with disgust. The smell of rotten food and sweat filled his nostrils, making him gag for a second. He looked back at Adriana for a second, wondering why on earth she hadn't dealt with this. But judging by the paleness of her skin, the breakouts on her face and the constant shivering, she has other things to worry about. Niall didn't have the time to get mad at her for snorting cocaine again, so he looked back and made his way into the room.

  Harry barely looked up when light spilt into the room from the open doorway. Niall gulped quietly, face scrunching up at the pile of clothes lying around here and there, the stench of sweat was suffocating. He parted his lips and called out Harry's name, but Harry didn't seem to hear him. Niall frowned deeply and leaned over the messy bed, hand reaching out to touch Harry's shoulder and shake him lightly, repeating his name. Harry blinked rapidly when Niall suddenly snapped his fingers in front of him, finally turning his head to look at the blonde in surprise.

   "Niall?" Harry mumbled, wondering why his bestfriend was here.

   "Hey Peach," Niall responded with a smile, sitting down on the bed and fighting the urge to grimace because of the smell. Harry smelt like he hadn't had a shower in weeks. "Looked like you spaced out there."

   "I guess I did," Harry shrugged lightly. Niall glanced at Adriana briefly, who simply looked away. Her and Harry haven't been speaking much since he discovered she was doing cocaine.

   "Does it happen a lot?" Niall enquired quietly, making Harry frown lightly.

   "I dunno," Harry muttered in response. He didn't really care to think about if it's been happening often or not. Truth is, it was, and he wasn't always aware of when it'd happen.

   "What do you mean you don't know?" Adriana questioned in a frustrated tone. "Do you feel like you're zoning out a lot? Like you're watching a movie that is your life?"

  Harry shrugged in response. Adriana parted his lips to respond irritably, making Niall stand up all of a sudden and defend Harry. An argument kicked off immediately between them, Niall unable to control his frustrations snapped at Adriana for letting Harry descend into darkness like this. To the point where he's detached himself from reality. Adriana reacted aggressively, her withdrawal from cocaine making her extra irritable and ready to argue with Niall about how hard it's been for her to look after Harry, herself and Mateo. The argument was ugly, and Harry watched quietly from his bed. Yet he felt nothing. He had been witnessing arguments like this for the past few weeks now, and had even been involved with some of them.

  The only thing that was different this time was awareness. He suddenly became aware that he wasn't feeling. Normally, seeing two of the most important people in his life fight like this would've upset him immensely. Maybe even made him cry because they were fighting about him. But he felt nothing. He realized this. This sudden awareness made him blink for a second. His dissociation from reality for the past few weeks allowed him to read expressions and lips really well. Thus, he sat there, understanding that Niall found the bedroom disgusting and smelly, and that he was upset with Adriana for neglecting him.

  Harry wanted to feel scared that he was dissociating. That he almost couldn't feel how stuffy the room was, or how dark it was or how he couldn't hear how loud Adriana and Niall were arguing. He wanted to feel something, but he didn't know how to. He swallowed slowly, waiting for the argument to end. Eventually it diffused when Adriana noticed the usual distant look in Harry's eyes, and pointed it out to Niall by interrupting his words. Niall sighed harshly and told her that he wasn't done with the conversation before turning around and shaking Harry again.

   "Niall, why do I keep doing that?" Harry suddenly asked, looking at Niall. He felt like he had returned to reality, but he couldn't even feel relieved about it.

   "Doing what Harry?" Niall frowned at him.

   "Zoning out. Is something wrong with me?" Harry questioned, knitting his brows together.

   "No, no," Niall immediately said, making Adriana frown. Niall didn't want to scare Harry. "How about we get you out of this bed and we'll talk about it? Maybe shower, get some food, then we'll talk about it, okay? How does that sound?"

   "I don't want to get up," Harry mumbled in response, making Niall's face fall.

   "Adriana and I will help you, come. We're gonna help you shower," Niall encouraged him, reaching his hand out for Harry to hold. Harry was still hesitant. He was uncomfortable with anyone touching him. "Okay, we won't watch you shower. We'll just help you get to the bathroom. How about that?"

   "That sounds...doable," Harry muttered quietly, knowing that they weren't gonna leave him alone until he took a shower. He urged himself to grab Niall's help and climb out of the bed.

  Harry's legs felt weak, they almost buckled. Adriana and Niall both wrapped an arm of his around their necks, grimacing at the smell of him before helping him walk to the bathroom. His body ached all over but he still felt like it wasn't actually happening to him. He was still detached from his own self. These thoughts of self-awareness lingered in his mind as he was taken to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet. Niall left the bathroom as Adriana helped Harry undress, but he could notice that it was hard for her to touch him and not feel shudders running down her body. But for some reason he didn't say anything. He couldn't bring himself to care enough to stop her from helping him. He couldn't tell if he was being selfish or just didn't care.

  She finished soon enough, powered through undressing him and seeing him naked. The tub was filled up by the time she was done, so she helped him into the water. He sat there and stared at the water mindlessly, unable to understand why he couldn't even feel the "wetness" of the water. Was he that dissociated? Adriana frowned at him quietly while she observed him, wondering if she should offer to help him soap up.

   "Do you want me to shave your stubble off?" she suddenly asked, gaining no attention from him as he had zoned out again. "Harry."

   "What?" Harry snapped out of it, looking at her.

   "Do you want me to shave your stubble?" she questioned again. "You normally don't like how it looks on you. Should I shave it off for you?"

   "No, I'll do it myself," Harry forced himself to say, making her face fall a little before she nodded. He just wanted to be alone, he wasn't really going to shave.

  She gave him a hand mirror, shaving cream and a safety razor because his electric one wasn't working at the moment. The door shut behind her once she left, leaving him isolated. Harry looked at the items set on the edge of the bathtub and grimaced, not in the mood to shave. Showering was the most he could do. The razor caught his eye though, an idea that had never been in his head before, blossoming all of a sudden. He grabbed the razor, turning it around and examining it carefully. He swallowed thickly as he pressed his thumb against the sharp, metal part of the razor, dragging the pad of his thumb across it. The metal pierced the skin and a bead of blood appeared from the wound.

  He pulled his finger back, grimacing a little. He barely felt that. The bead of blood dripped down his finger and into the bathtub. His mind barely processed his next movements as his fingers worked quickly to detach the blade from the razor. He just wanted to see how far he could go. He was willing to do whatever it takes to feel the pain, to feel something.

  Within the next few seconds, Harry forced the blade into the skin of his forearm vertically, dragging it upwards from wrist to where his elbow was. Blood spilled from the cut and out of his mouth came a strangled cry, eyes growing wide from the pain and the shocking amount of crimson that escaped the wound. It was in that moment he realized what he had done. The bloody razor blade slipped from his hand into the bathtub, sinking to the floor with the blood inking the water. He was gasping loudly, unable to tear his eyes away from what he had done. His breathing was loud and heavy, the pain from the wound that was about 6 inches long.

  His feet moved suddenly to get out of the tub, but he slipped back into the tub. The water shifted violently and split onto the floor. Adriana who was just outside the bathroom, heard the noise, face forming a frown as she stood up from where she was sitting on his bed and approached the bathroom door. Her lips parted to call out his name, but he wasn't responding. While Harry was slowly bleeding out, Adriana pressed her ear against the door and heard his erratic breathing. Panic slowly rose in her heart as she called out loudly for Niall, continuing to bang on the door because it was locked, trying to get Harry's attention.

   "Adriana! What's wrong?" He appeared by her side; blue eyes wide with worry.

   "I-I think something's wrong with Harry," she told him, grabbing the door handle and shaking it in frustration. "Fuck Harry, please open the door!"

   "Shit, Harry it's gonna be okay, we're coming," Niall yelled loudly, before he told Adriana to move to the side.

  As Niall began kicking the door down, aiming for the area right above the lock and hoping it would loosen up. Adriana's heart was racing in her chest, worried sick for her love who was slowly bleeding to death in the bathtub. Harry weakly lay in the water, pale green eyes focused on the deep cut on his left forearm. He felt a sick sense of relief for being able to live in the moment and feel the pain, unlike watching a tragic scene unfold in a movie, which was the way he lived for the past few weeks.

The last thing his brain processed was the door flying open and screams and gasps of his loved ones echoing through his ears before he passed out.

~-~

  Lilies.

  The smell of fresh lilies was the first thing Harry's senses caught when he started to regain consciousness. Lilies were his favorite flowers. He loved the smell and the pure white color of them. His nostrils flared at the strong smell of them, awakening his sense one by one. His eyes moved underneath his eyelids before they cracked open slowly. His vision blurred slightly before it cleared. It took him a second to recognize his surroundings. He was in a hospital gown, all sorts of wires hooked to him.

  He turned his head slightly and saw a bouquet of lilies sitting in a vase next to him on the bedside table. His mind processed this much; he was in a hospital, something bad had happened, but what happened? That was when his eyes travelled down to his arms, focusing on the left arm where it was heavily bandaged. It all came back to him in that moment. Self-harming in the bathtub. He felt sick to his stomach looking at the bandaged arm, remembering the laceration he created on himself. His head was filled with images of the blood and the horror and the screams.

  Adriana who was in the room with him, passed out on the couch nearby stirred awake to a machine beeping. Harry's heart rate was beginning to skyrocket as tears streamed from his eyes, unable to fathom what he had done. His hands were shaking, a mix of anxiety and fear suffocating him as he continued to stare at the bandaged wound. Niall, who was asleep on the other side of the, room also woke up. Adriana approached Harry before Niall did.

   "Harry, baby," she cooed quietly, hands reaching to touch his face. He looked at her immediately, noticing her red-rimmed eyes, sore from crying. "Breathe, my love, you need to stay calm. You're alright."

   "Peach, you're fine," Niall sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. "You're alive and you're safe. Please just calm down for a second."

   "Yeah, look at us, it's not that bad. You're alright," she murmured to him, stroking his face as his breathing began to slow down. Her eyes darted to the heart rate monitor, noticing that it was decreasing to its regular level.

  She sighed heavily and also sat down on the bed next to him, taking his left hand in both of hers. Her eyes immediately fell upon the bandaged wound, feeling her heart strings tug at the sight of it. But she tried not to show any emotion on her face because she knew it would provoke Harry. She just couldn't believe that he had done such a thing. Self-harm. She couldn't tell if he just wanted to self-harm or actually commit suicide. Either thought hurt her soul like hell. Her demons were already blaming this incident on her. Blaming her for not taking care of Harry enough to prevent this. She could already feel the guilt heavily sitting in her stomach.

   "I'm sorry," Harry cried quietly, tears rolling down his mottled cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

   "Harry, stop," Niall whispered quietly, making Harry switch his gaze to his best friend. Niall too looked like he had been crying all night.

   "Niall, I-I didn't want to die," he mumbled with a sniffle. "I just wanted to feel something."

   "Feel wha-" Niall parted his lips to speak, but just then the door of the room flew open. His eyes widened when he saw his parents walk in, along with Gemma. Their faces that had worry etched upon them softened a little at the sight of Harry being awake. Anna immediately rushed in before his father and Gemma could, pushing past Adriana and locking gazes with Harry.

   "Harry, my baby boy," Anne whimpered with fresh tears springing from her eyes. Her words elicited more tears from Harry, causing him to let out a sob and stretch his arms out of her to hug him.

   "Mum," he cried softly, feeling a sense of relief flood his body at the sight of her. They met in an embrace, both crying heavily while Gemma and Desmond approached them.

  Adriana and Niall looked at each other, silently agreeing that they should give Harry some space to talk to his parents. Niall initially called them because he was scared of what the outcome of the situation was going to be and thus contacted them out of worry. Adriana didn't agree with it because she worried Harry killing Dean would be revealed to his parents.

  They both stepped out into the hallway and found a few empty seats nearby to sit on for some time. Niall rested his face in his hands, knees sitting on his knees with his back hunched over. Adriana paced around for a bit before she noticed Niall shaking slowly. He was crying. Her heart ached as she moved to sit next to him, hearing tiny sobs leave his mouth as his chest heaved slightly. It killed him to know that his best friend self-harmed, and that he couldn't do anything to help pull him out of the darkness that pushed him to do such a thing. Adriana felt Niall's pain and guilt, if possible, she felt it even worse because Harry was under her supervision.

   "Niall," Adriana whispered, reaching out to rub his back in a comforting manner. But as soon as she touched him, he grimaced visibly and retracted from her, locking gazes.

   "He wouldn't have done this if you paid more attention to him," Niall hissed angrily at her, blue eyes leaking heavily with sad tears while he furiously gazed at her. His heart was hurting and at the moment he couldn't find the heart to empathize with her because he was upset about what happened to Harry.

   "Niall, please-" Adriana sucked in a breath at the ferocity of his tone. She could barely respond before he stood up angrily; and continued to speak.

   "He wouldn't have done that to himself if you were just there for him!"

  Adriana didn't even get a chance to defend herself before Niall stormed off with an angry sniffle, leaving her with tears in her eyes threatening to spill. A part of her didn't even want to defend herself. She believed that she could've done more to prevent him from self-harming. Her throat closed up as she choked on her tears quietly, face falling into her hands. Her chest heaved as she sobbed silently, heart throbbing intensely as she blamed herself for everything that ruined her Sun.

  Meanwhile, Harry was being bombarded with questions by his parents, feeling extremely overwhelmed. Gemma noticed how uncomfortable he looked and immediately spoke up.

   "Mum, Dad! Stop it, you're stressing him out," Gemma called out at them, making them stop for a moment.

   "I'm sorry, Harry, but I can't help it," Anne cried out loud. "What on earth happened?"

   "I-I've just not been feeling myself lately," he mumbled quietly, avoiding eye contact. "I've been severely depressed, and-and I really just want it to stop. I'm tired of feeling so lonely and sad all the time and guilty as fuck. I want to feel happy again."

   "Son, we are here to get you all the help you need," Desmond reached out to hold Harry's hand. "But you have to tell us what you think pushed you down this dark path."

   "I-I," Harry stammered, feeling pressured because he knew what exactly impacted him so badly, he was pushed to self-harm, but he couldn't reveal it.

   "Harry, you're safe. It's just us, your family, you can tell us. We will understand and protect you," Gemma noticed his reluctance, looking at her parents to support her and they nodded.

   "Even if it's something illegal, we will do anything to protect you. I promise," Desmond assured him.

   "Yes, my love, we are here for you now more than ever. You need to be completely honest, especially if you're going to see a therapist. You can't lie about anything if you want them to diagnose you properly and give you the right treatment," Anne explained to him carefully, making him nod slowly. "We will understand."

   "You w-won't judge?" he questioned with worried eyes, making them all shake their heads.

    "Never," his mother said stroking his cheek before he nodded slowly.

   "Alright," Harry finally said before he told them everything.

  He started out by explaining that Adriana was suffering from rape trauma because of her ex-boyfriend and that was putting a strain on their relationship. He didn't want to mention her cocaine addiction to his parents, worried they'd turn her into the police. He continued to tell them that her ex-boyfriend returned when Harry wasn't there and Adriana was forced to go back to him because they share a son. Harry told his family that once he found out about what happened, he went over there in anger and confronted the boyfriend, they got into a fight and Harry killed him out of self-defense. It was difficult to describe the events that has tainted his soul for eternity.

   "I couldn't breathe," Harry choked up on tears, eyes focused on his hand that was clasped between his mother's. "I-I still can't sometimes. I can still feel his hands on my neck when I sleep, squeezing so hard."

   "Oh Harry," Gemma whispered tearfully. "What happened next?"

   "I-I," Harry stuttered, closing his eyes and letting the tears roll down his cheeks. "I saw his pocketknife nearby."

  The facial expressions of his parents and sister shifted ever so slightly at his words, already assuming the worst. Harry noticed this and gulped loudly, his other hand rubbing at his neck because talking about what happened was making him relive the trauma all over again. But he had to, so he pushed himself further.

   "I killed him," he finally said it, watching his mother's eyes grow wide along with Gemma's and his father's. He then started rambling, "I-I didn't know what else to do, he was trying to kill me! He had punched Adriana in the stomach so she was in too much pain to get up and help me. I had to do it, Mum, Dad, I h-had to-"

   "Harry! Harry! Breathe," Anne spoke up suddenly, noticing that Harry was hyperventilating as he spoke.

   "I-I haven't been able to stop feeling guilty since then," he cried softly curling up in his mother's arms, taking a heavy breath between every word.

   "Guilty? My love, it wasn't your fault! It was self-defense," Anne frowned deeply at him, stroking his hair back as he sniffled and shook his head.

   "I still murdered another human being, Mum," Harry choked out in insistence.

  "Harry, sweetie," Anne murmured with sad eyes. Then she started rambling, "I can't believe this, why did this have to happen to you? It's all because of Ad-"

   "Mum," Gemma interrupted firmly. "Let's not point fingers right now, and just focus on the next steps in Harry's recovery from this...situation."

   "Gemma is right," Desmond spoke with great difficulty, when he too wanted to blame Adriana for this series of unfortunate events that have impacted Harry extremely negatively. "Our priority is your recovery, son. I think what we should do now is find you a private therapist whom we can trust won't go to the authorities as soon as they find out what you've done."

   "H-How are you sure they won't do that? Isn't it like a therapist's job to notify the authorities if something like this-" Harry began to mumble worriedly, fiddling with his fingers before his mum grabbed his hand and squeezed gently.

   "We will take care of it, sweetie," she said with a tight-lipped smile, and Harry immediately knew she meant they'll take care of it with money and a lot of bribery. "Promise."

   "Okay," he said quietly, managing to shoot her a tiny smile, feeling a small weight lift off his shoulders. He was hopeful for the first time forever. Grateful that his family was being supportive for once and that he has the chance to get better.

   "We have on condition though, Harry," his father spoke up after a few moments of silence, making Harry frown and look up.

   "What condition?" He questioned lowly, watching the way his family members exchanged glances tensely.

   "Remember, we ask you this because we believe it's for the best, and it's the right thing to do for your mental health at the moment-"

   "What is it?" Harry demanded firmly; dark brows pulled over his gleaming eyes.

   "You have to break up with Adriana."

≫≫≫

Oof did anyone predict any of that???

Also apologies if the latter part of the chapter was a bit rustyyyyy.

I recently did a course on abnormal psychology in my university so I learnt a lot about all the different kinds of mental disorders, caused, symptoms and treatment. So hopefully I portrayed depression and dissociation well, please let me know if I did. If I didn't, do let me know (nicely) I'd definitely like to hear your thoughts!

The book is coming to an end, I think there's gonna be a lot of major events happening in the next few chapters so things may be a little bit fast-paced! Let's just hope I'm able to keep up writing, it's been really hard y'all ):

Until we meet again...

Thiora ❤️