CHAPTER FOUR
Harry scratches the back of his head and looks closer at the scrap of paper. Then, an emotion shows and soon he’s putting his head in his hands and letting out soft sobs.
My heart drops and all I can do is watch as he starts crying more, just standing at the island in front of the note. I try to search my mind for anything I could do to fix this, and the only thing I can think to do is of course, write a note.
But why is he crying? Was the note too creepy? I was just saying I know who he is. He can’t be so oblivious that he doesn’t know someone is here.
But maybe that’s just the thing. He isn’t oblivious, and he wants to be. He doesn’t want me here and he’s afraid of me, once again, before I even show myself to him.
I can’t blame him though, my dreams are pretty scary and I don’t like them. They scare me and I’ve cried over them. It’s the same thing with Harry. He doesn’t know what’s going on and he doesn’t like it.
I want to show him who I am, I want to tell him that everything is going to be okay, but I know I can’t. It’s too soon. And here he is, standing in front of the island, crying over a note.
Oh, how I wish he knew I was here. I wish I could go up to him and comfort him and show him it’s okay and that I won’t hurt him.
It’s funny how this all works. The only thing I have to do is make someone like me. They’re scared of course, when I show myself, so I tell them I won’t hurt them. But the next thing you know, they’re out the door and they’ve hurt me.
Harry just keeps crying, and I don’t know whether it’s just hormones or realization. I silently hope it’s just hormones building up from school and his new flat, but I have a feeling that isn’t it. I know he’s smart. He knows I’m here.
Without thinking any further, I bring my fingers together and walk to stand next Harry by the island. My first thought is to soothe him by rubbing his back, but then I’ll just fall through him.
His head is in his hands, elbows resting on the counter, and he’d most likely be oblivious to my presence even if I wasn’t invisible to him.
So, I turn with my back facing him and quietly open the drawer. It’s silent compared to the sobs coming from Harry, so I continue. I pull out a pen and the pad of paper, and check once more behind me.
My eyes widen with shock as I see Harry beginning to wipe his eyes and begin taking deep breaths. Quickly, I set the items down and watch helplessly as Harry turns and looks right at the items.
“No, no, no.” He mumbles under his breath and his eyes once more fill with tears, “Those weren’t there! I didn’t write this note!” He yells furiously into the air, and all I can do is stare as the scene unfolds.
Tears fall down his cheeks as he again looks back to the counter, “It’s probably right here.” He chuckles, humorlessly, “I bet it’s right there!” He laughs again and points a little to my right.
I nod, extremely ashamed. I know he can’t see me, but I can see him, and I honestly wish I didn’t have to.
“Whatever it is, whoever it is.‘V’ or ‘I’.” He mutters again, looking all around, “It probably wants to steal more of my books. Or maybe it wants to ruin all of my papers and projects!” He’s yelling again and throwing stuff everywhere as he goes on.
I feel myself start to cringe at his words. But it’s not just because his words are hurtful—because trust me, they are—it’s that the words are totally true. I’m messing with him, and he does nothing. I’m using him and he’s innocent.
