Safe and Sound [h. styles]

➴ eight

excuse me for the late update, however, chapter seven was pretty long :)

➴ estella

I woke up to someone shaking me as they whispered my name.

My eyes shot open as the familiar voice made it's way to my ears. I rubbed my eyes as the light hit me, quickly adjusting to the different lightening.

"Morning darling. Ready to pack up?" Mum said.

I'm doing amazing mother, I don't feel half bad anymore.

"I guess," I grumbled. Personally, I never was a morning person but she was.

She clapped her hands together, quickly rushing over to my closet.

I sat up in my bed, watching as she took out the boxes in a rush, shoving anything that was in her way in any of the boxes. I watched as she frantically moved, amused at how my mum wanted me out and home. When she lifted my guitar, I quickly threw my blanket off and ran to grab hold of the instrument.

"I'll take this, don't worry."

Mum sent me a glare, her brown eyes staring at me.

I shrugged, setting the guitar on my bed and grabbing a pair of shorts and a random shirt from a box, going off into the bathroom.

Changing out of the stupid hospital pajamas, I shimmied my way into the shorts and shirt which were now baggy on me. Sighing as I stared at the reflection, I wished that I still kept the same weight I was before this all happened.

I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and gathered all my stuff from the bathroom and placed them into my beach bag which I never used.

Gathering all the lose hair ties and such, my mum knocked on the door.

"Hurry up honey, you're stuff is packed. I just took off the sheets and placed them in a basket."

"Okay." i said.

Upon opening the door all my boxes were by the entrance.

"It's Friday Estella. Ask that boy if he could do you the favor." She smiled.

I nodded, walking out of the bathroom.

The room, so empty. It looked as if the color had drained, just like I did when I was diagnosed.

I would miss this place. Although it's full of tears, screams and pain, it was like a home to me.

"Come on honey, dad will be back to pick up your stuff."

I nodded, swinging the bag of my bathroom stuff on my shoulder.

Mum opened the door, me coming out and strolling the blood tank machine.

I felt multiple pairs of eyes on me, sympathetically hoping for the best.

I didn't want any sympathy. I was going to make it.

As I started walking to the Check-Out desk, I began to feel dizzy.

Setting the bag on the floor, I took breathes.

Mums hand was on my back, waiting for me to continue.

"I'm alright," I panted. Instead of me taking the bag, mum did.

I continued my journey to the elevator, thinking of what my room looked like and how I left it.

The drive home was quiet, mums legging bouncing up and down.

I stared at her strangely, waiting for the ride to be over with.

People were roaming the streets, teens laughing with a cup of Starbucks in their hands, business people rushing to whenever they had to go, their suitcases filled with papers. A cup of coffee nearly spilled out of a women's hand. She sighed, taking one last sip and throwing it in a nearby garbage can.