Harry's P.O.V
I now sit on the floor in the kitchen, a bottle of vodka by my side.
Vodka is what I turned to the first time I lost Prim.
Except this time, I can't get her back.
She's gone.
For good.
I take a long swing of the vodka. I look up and my vision doubles, but I see Prim.
"Look Harry," she whispers and picks up the vodka glass, "we're running out of things to keep us numb."
Her voice is soft and weak like it always was.
"Prim?"
"Yeah Harry?"
"You're dead."
"And you're drunk."
Her figure isn't solid. It's blurry.
"Are you a ghost?" I slur.
She giggles. Oh how I miss that laugh.
"No, silly. You're just drunk. Now go get in bed and sleep this off."
I stand up and close my eyes. "You're dead." I whimper.
I open my eyes and she's gone. I cry. I do as my imaginary Prim tells me. I walk up the steps and lay in bed taking the vodka with me.
Well, after all, vodka is best when you're depressed.
YOU ARE READING
Torn (Harry Styles)
Fanfiction"and if my suicide fails, I'll see you tomorrow." trigger warning. please don't read if you are sensitive to self harm/suicide. please stay positive.
