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First, you do not need to be a one direction fan to read this story. this story is not implying Harry Styles does any of these action as the story takes place. Harry Styles is used just for name purposes and physical features.

I would like to warn, this is triggering, if you have a past with situations like this, and it would be hard to read, I suggest you to not read.

I would also like to say, I am NOT influencing suicide or self harm.

Second, this story 100% mine. If someone's story is alike to mine, it's Completely coniecenditjal. ALSO IF SOMEONE STEALS THIS I WILL KILL YOU, lITERALLY.!

please don't steal this story or ill cut off your intestines and shove it down your throat as i watch you suffer and gladly be entertained by it:)

Pushing aside the seriousness I hope you all enjoy ;)

I'll clarify any confusions once this is finished since I ain't Tryna spoil. Xoxo.


Harry Styles- Himself

Grace Willis -

Sandra Willis( Graces mother)-


Jake Roland-

Henry Willis(Grace's Father)-

I'm not going to explain who the other characters are, since it's a suprise :)

I also don't believe in basing a character on someone famous and whatnot since everyone has a different form of imagination, you are free to visualize how they look in any way you please ;)

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silently walked into our- well my apartment, wiping the  dried tears off my face.

The apartment felt empty.


Now that Grace was gone, there didn't seem to be a purpose in living here.

Grace Willis. Grace Willis was my girlfriend. My dead girlfriend whom committed suicide at the age of 19.

A silent cry escaped my lips, at the sudden thought of her name.

I missed the way she sat at our sofa, with her legs folded, sobbing at those silly tragic love stories that she loved to read. Or when she laughed, that amazing laugh of hers, how she would crinkle her nose. Which was the most amusing sight ever seen.

Oh and her love. How she always seemed to love and accept people for who they were unconditionally. Including me. I was different. I wasn't the ideal perfect boyfriend one would pick.

I suddenly grew angry. Angry at the fact that she was unhappy, and I didn't notice. Angry because in some way, I could have helped. Angry, because I could have been that small possibility on why she wouldn't be dead right now.

Red was all I saw as I smashed my fists into the wooden door. A loud groan escaped my dried lips as I fell to the ground.

I suddenly broke down crying, curling myself into a tight secure ball. I cried for all the times we fought. I cried for all the times I embarrassed her. I also cried for the all those times I took highly advantage of her.

It hurt. Hell, it hurt more than anything I could imagine.

It got to the point where it wasn't just mentally; but now physically. My heart ached for the brown headed girl who I was madly in love with.

It was a losing battle. And I didn't know if I should surrender or not.

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Beep. Beep. Beep.

A ringing sound filled my ears, as I groaned silently standing up from my position.

I stretched my body, shoving my hand into my tight jean pocket, retrieving my cell phone.

(8) missed calls from Sandra Willis.

Why in the world is Grace's mum calling me?

It's been five and a half weeks after the accident. I didn't think she would want anything to do with me after what had happened.

I decided to call her back. No matter how much it'd hurt to hear her voice, since her voice sounded way to alike to Grace's.

"Hello?" Her mother says. I almost could hear the brokenness in her tone, which causes a slight ache on my chest.

"Uh yeah.. You called?" I respond back. I bite my lip, not knowing what else to say.

"Yes Harry, I was wondering if you can please ship Grace's items here. It's the least you could do." I hear her sniffle, knowing she's holding back her tears.

Personally, I wasn't planning on moving Grace's items back. Their didn't seem to be a point since this is her home.

Was her home, I reminded myself.

I also couldn't get myself to step foot into our bedroom. It's been four awful dreading weeks of me sleeping on the uncomfortable sofa. If I did end up walking in, it was only to use our bathroom, which held all our  necessities, or to retrieve my clothes, which now majority of them were tossed all over the living room floor.

Forgetting that Sandra is still on the phone, the rest of the conversation consisted of me muttering a "Yeah" and "Sure" which she thanked me once again, before hanging up.

I threw my phone against the wall, causing it to shatter. Fury taking over.

I ran over to the kitchen sink, and pulled out a bottle of scotch from underneath.

Don't do it Harry

Her voice rings in my ears.

Unhesitatingly, I opened the bottle and gulped down half the bottle. The alcohol burned my throat, as I chugged some more.

I wanted to erase her, and her voice. I wanted to erase the image of her scolding me, for turning my problems towards alcohol. I couldn't help but blame her. It's her fault. All her fault. I wouldn't be broken if it wasn't her drastic choice of ending her life. She could have been happy if she stayed, we could have been happy. If it wasn't for her chucking a knife to her throat our lives would be way easier.

I chucked the bottle of scotch against the wall, watching it break into several pieces. I felt nothing but pain and anger.

I slowly picked up the picture of Grace and I, admiring her smile. My green eyes gazing into her brown.

In this moment, is when I realized it was only a matter of time my demons would take full control.

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