HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE KING!

Hello! Some changes are coming. Trigger warning.

DOUBLE UPDATE X

Now there are a million reasons for you to go. But if you can find a reason to stay, I'll do whatever it takes.

"Harry." It's faint; I almost don't hear it. Someone is calling me from a distance. My eyes are too heavy to open. They call again; they're walking towards me. 

"Harry." I move my head in the direction of the sound. "Come on, man. Come on." The person sounds worried. There's pressure on my shoulders, pushing me to the ground. Then it's numb again.

"If you don't open your Goddamn eyes right now, I'm killing you." He shouts right next to me. I think I'm turned on my side now.  A groan escapes me as I try to move, but my bones feel like lead. 

My eyes shoot open when something cold hits the side of my face. I cover my eyes with my hand.  Why is it so fucking bright in here?  My throat hurts—more pressure.

"Jesus, you scared me." The pressure is gone, and I heave—my stomach contracts with nothing but emptiness. I focus my eyes on the wall; it's blurry. I gaze around, and my eyes land on Mitch. He's sitting on the floor, leaned over me. His hands are moving frantically like he doesn't know where to put them.

He's wearing a haunting expression. I close my eyes in guilt. He's moving quickly. There are sirens in the distance. I look down at my hand, resting on the floor. Is that blood? I don't have time to think about it. There's a disruption outside.

They pile into my room, and strangers are surrounding me.  They're shouting over each other. I can't make out what they're saying. I search for Mitch; he's standing in the corner. "It's okay, Harry." I sigh deeply; it's okay, I'm not alone. 

I nod and close my eyes. "You need to stay awake." Someone yells in my ear. I can't. I'm not strong enough. "Open your eyes." She coos at me. I shake my head. There's soft music playing in my mind. I imagine Aliza at the piano, playing for me so I can stay awake. 

"...three." I catch someone say, and I jolt when I'm suddenly lifted from the ground. "Stay calm, Sweetness; You'll be alright." I try to breathe, but it's coming out in short pants. I reach out to the person next to me with shaky hands. 

She smiles at me and puts a mask on my face. I relax when the air hits my lungs. Mitch is right behind her, holding my hand. He's crushing it, but that's okay. There's a blur of activities as the apartment doors fly past us. Just one more chance, please...

"What are you doing, Harry." I look up from my crouched position. "I'm uncurling the cat," I tell her as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. She's shaking from laughter, and the butterflies flap against the inside of my rib cage. 

"Is there a reason why you're torturing poor Lilly?" I scoff up at her. "I'm not hurting her; I just don't want bad weather today," I explain. She's confused, I know, because her nose is scrunching. 

"You always do that! You always tell me only half of it! Would it kill you to explain it properly to me?" Well, someone's in a mood today. She's right, though. I have a gift of pissing people off by giving them as little information as possible. 

"Am I making you angry?" I tease her, standing up once I'm satisfied the cat is laying flat on her stomach. "Nope." I can tell she's lying. She's red in the face.  I stand right in front of her. "Really." I draw out, eyebrow raised. She takes a deep breath to calm herself. 

"I'm not mad." This time I believe her. I'll never know how she does it. It's like she can compartmentalize her emotions and choose what she wants to feel. "I read somewhere that when cats curl up, it means there's bad weather coming." She doesn't say anything, so I continue. 

"I don't want our day to be spoiled, so I thought if I can uncurl Lilly, the bad weather will skip us." I finish, and she laughs from her belly. "Oh, Harry, that's so nice of you." She teases me. 

She goes serious. "Don't do that to me. Don't treat me like the rest with your vague answers." I was wrong. She wasn't mad. She was upset.

"I'm sorry, sunshine, won't happen again." She smiles brightly, and all is right in the world for a moment. Her face morphs into excitement."Come one." She suddenly says, taking off in a random direction, "where are we going?" I yell after her, my feet moving already. 

"I saw a litter of kittens by the shed a while ago. We need to make sure we do our part in keeping the rain away!"She shouts. She's not saying it to tease me. 

She's doing it because it's something I believe in, and that's why she's my sunshine. It can rain buckets; I don't care. She's my sun.

***

When I wake up again, I'm almost sure I'm in the hospital before I even open my eyes. There's a slow rhythmical beeping in the room, and it smells like chemicals. I open my eyes slowly. "Welcome back." Mitch is sitting on a chair that's pushed into a corner. 

"Nobody puts Baby in a corner." I don't know why it's the first thing I say. I blame it on the fact that I lost half my brain cells through the stunt I pulled. 

He smiles nevertheless. "Glad the part of your brain with your sense of humor still works." His voice is cheery, but there's an underlying tone of grieve. 

He stares at me. "Three days, that's how long it took for you to wake up fully." Shame washes over me. You're killing everyone around you too. Regret seems to be the only thing I feel nowadays. 

"I didn't know who else to call," I admit, looking at my hands.

"I was almost too late, Harry." A shiver runs down my spine thinking about what could have happened. "I don't even remember you answering."

"I answered the second time..." I don't want to know what you heard. My head is pounding, and my body is sore. "I'm sorry for doing this to you." I apologize; he clicks his tongue at me, shaking his head.

"You scared the shit out of me. I thought you were already dead when I saw you. I didn't know it was this bad, Harry. I found you lying in your blood and vomit." My brows crease, neither did I. Wait, did he say blood.

"How..." I trail off. "You fell through the coffee table." I start to inspect myself. My movements are still slow, even though I'm willing my brain to move faster. I lift my arm; some stitches are running inside of it. 

I let my arm fall back, too tired to do anything. "Ten in your arm, the one you just saw—four on your eyebrow and twenty-two along your ribs and 16 up the side of your leg. Not to mention the superficially cuts everywhere else. It's a wonder your still here." I press my fingers to my eyebrow, winching when it touches the raw stitches.

"The point is you are supposed to be dead. I found you halfway bled out and overdosing on pills; one of the two was supposed to kill you. You got another chance; I won't allow this ever to happen again." He's stern, but his eyes are soft. 

You did ask for another chance.  "I won't waste it," I whisper, and he nods affirmatively. "What triggered this?" He moves closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. I grab his hand in mine for comfort.

 "It's hard to explain... I found out who Lisa was. She's a childhood friend of mine. It was just too much...It's a very long, complicated story. It's... It's kinda fucked up." I laugh out, and he joins me. "You need to stop closing yourself off Harry, you're my best friend, and I'll never push you, but this needs to stop." He scolds me. 

"I will, it's going to take some time, but I'm willing to be more open. I don't want to be alone." I admit. "You never were Harry." My lip trembles. "I fucked up so bad, Mitch." I can't stop the sob that escapes. 

"Fix it." He says simply, shrugging his one shoulder. "That easy, huh?" I snort. "Could be. It's never as hard as we make it out to be." The wheels in my mind are turning. I'm tired, tired of always fighting against myself. 

I don't want to be like this anymore. I can change it... I can change, and then I can be what she needs me to be. I'll be better for her. I'll give her everything I promised all those years ago, even more. 

"Don't overthink about it right now. You've been through a lot. You should get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow." He squeezes my hand and gets up. He walks to the door without a word. "Mitch," I say when he's almost gone. He stops in the doorway and turns to me. 

"Thank you." It's not enough, but I don't have anything else right now. He nods and gives me a small smile before he disappears. 

***

Someone shakes my shoulder lightly. It's dark when I open my eyes. I turn to the person whose hand is still resting on my upper arm. 

 "Dinner is here." The nurse smiles; it's a motherly smile. I like this nurse. She's soft and smells like roses. She gave me a blanket she brought from home. 

"Can you just.. leave it there for now." I point over my shoulder. She nods with a sigh. "I know it's hard, but you need to eat." I roll my head. "It hurts."  My voice is small, childlike.

She takes my shaking hand in hers. "It'll be okay; you're going through some withdrawal." That's what the doctor said.

"This, the thing that happened to you it was a cry for help. I can't believe that someone with a heart like yours wanted to end your life." I nod because it's true.

"People are going to offer you that help. Please take it, Dear." She's almost pleading by now. Her voice soothes me.

"I promise." She breathes out. Clasping my hand in both of hers and shakes it a little.

"You got some flowers." My ears perk.  She disappears for a second but comes into view in front of me. She puts the flowers on my bedside table.

Eglantine roses. I can't stop the tears from flowing. Having a wound that needs to heal. "Oh, sweet, are you okay?" She asks worriedly. "I just really love flowers," I mumble stupidly, hiding my face in the pillow. She gives me a soft smile.

"Let me know if you need anything else." She says before she leaves, closing the door behind her. I'm too distracted by the flowers to reply. It's been a hard day. I had a mandatory appointment with the psychologist earlier. 

It turns out I'm not crazy. He spent more time with me than he should have, making sure that I'm not suicidal. For now, I won't be forced into therapy, but he did leave his card.

Was she here, or did she just send them? I untie the ribbon to read the note. 'Ready when you are.  A."  I rip the flowers from the vase. It nearly falls over, but I catch the vase in time. I'm able to steady it. I clutch the flowers in my hand and against my chest. I don't care about the water soaking me.

She's too forgiving; she should hate me for this. I'm going to spend my life making it up to her. I fall asleep holding the flowers tightly, and for the first time in a while, there's a little bit of hope inside of me. 

***

Whoever said hospitals are for rest can go and fuck themselves. The moment I close my eyes, someone barges in. I swear they peek through the window to see when I'm about to fall asleep, and then they laugh evilly and rush in, making as much noise as they can. 

"Heather," I say smoothly. She gives me a look, and I pout at her. "What do you want, Harry." I've been resigned to flirt my way into getting what I want. "Can I please go outside?" I beg her. Her face softens. "No, you can't." My face falls, and with a nod, I leave it at that. 

"You can go home, though." My eyes snap up to her. "Jesus, You'd think I promised you all the gold in the world."She laughs. "I can go home?" I make sure I didn't hear wrong. She nods. "When." I'm sure I look like an excited puppy. "I'm about to fetch your papers from the front desk." She tells me.

I've only been here for five days... two where I was awake, but I want to get out of here. Mitch has been here most of the time I wake up. I owe my life to him. I literately wouldn't be here without him. 

It feels like a decade later when I can finally go home. Mitch walks behind me silently, carrying my bag. "I want you to consider something." He murmurs. I look at him while we walk to the car slowly. "Maybe you should come and stay with me for a while. Just a week, maybe?" He offers.

I haven't even thought about going back to the apartment. Will it still look like it did when I left? Will I be able to live there after what happened? I should stay with Mitch for a while. "Thanks for the offer; I'll be okay," I tell him.

"Harry." The child within me stomps his feet for being caught. "Sorry, habit. Thank's Mitch, that would be great." He smiles, satisfied with my answer. He helps me into the car, and we drive to his house.

I've never been there, don't even know where he lives. I did shelter myself. The music plays softly through the car. "I..." I swallow, fidgeting with the rings on my fingers. "Aliza." He's still looking at the road but nods once in acknowledgment. 

"We grew up together. We were never apart. She was by my side for seven years." I compress my eyes together. "I can't explain what she means to me." I turn in my seat a little towards Mitch. "I don't think the words to describe her has been written yet. She's the type of person you read about in stories." A smile crosses over my face.

"She always volunteers herself first. She wears vulnerability like a badge of honor. God Mitch, You'll drown in her depth if you stare at her too long." I end my ramble. He has a smile playing on his lips.

"Thank you," he whispers. Don't mention it. The rest of the conversation is more manageable. We talk about foolish things. He asks some questions now and then, and I share some memories about Aliza and me. 

Mitch's house is not what I expected. It's bigger than I imagined. Guess psychologists make a lot of money. He leads me inside and to one of the guest rooms. "You have a nice home," I tell him. He thanks me where he's sitting at the foot of the bed while I gather some things for my shower. 

"I'll let you get settled then. Stay as long as you need to. I'll make some dinner." He leaves. It's one of the things I appreciate about him. He doesn't hover. I walk to the bathroom and catch my reflection the moment I enter.

I look like shit. I don't know what I expected; I almost overdosed and nearly bled out. I undress slowly. The angry stitches protrude from my skin. I cringe from seeing them so clearly for the first time. 

It'll get better from here.  "Just find something you like right now, Harry."  Her voice rings through me. I stare at myself for a moment. I like my long hair. God knows it looks terrible right now, but I like that I can have long hair. I like the tattoos on my skin. They're the story of my life.

I like that I can cover this scar with something meaningful. I trace the scar on my chest softly, the one from the accident. I outline the butterfly wings next. They remind me of Aliza. 

Once I'm calmer and satisfied, I take a long shower. I enjoy the freedom of showering on my own. You'd swear I was in the hospital for months. I get dressed in some comfortable clothes and go downstairs to find Mitch.

He's standing by the counter making a salad. "I cheated; I put a ready meal in the oven. "He shrugs. "Sounds good to me," I tell him. "How are you feeling?" He looks up from the chopping board.

"Tired and sore. I suspect I'll be feeling like this for a while." He nods. "It's the drugs that linger in your system." He affirms. "Also maybe the fact that they had to do a blood transfusion." I let out a nervous laugh. I sit on the bar stool on the opposite side of the island—my chin resting on my open palm. 

"Are you okay?" I ask him, breaking the silence. "I've seen a lot of things, being a psychologist. You see things you can never imagine." He turns all of his attention to me. His eyes are glossy. 

"Seeing you there." He closes his eyes and lookup. His nostrils flare. He's looking at me again. "I'll never forget the feeling of holding you down while you have a seizure. I'll never forget how scared I was when I had to push my fingers down your throat to make you throw up."

He's fully crying now. He's not trying to hide it anymore. I rush around the counter and grab him into a hug. It hurts, but I don't care right now. He falls into me, done being strong. 

"I'm so sorry, Mitch." His shoulder shakes as sobs rake through his body. "I sat there while you threw up, thinking I don't know anything about him. 

He's going to die, and I can't even keep him in my memories." He cries, clutching the back of my shirt with his fists.

"I'm so sorry," I yell hoarsely, my own emotions going wild. He pulls back from me, and I hold onto his shoulders. "The only one who can't see what your worth is you." I look down. "You can change the atmosphere of a room with one sentence. 

You show compassion about the littlest things. You're so bright, Harry. You're our frontman." He pulls me into another hug but releases me just as fast. 

He goes back to his chopping, and I return to my spot across.

"I write songs." I blurt out. The chopping stops but continues a second later. It's like a dam wall broke, and I just have to get everything out.

 "I know, you wrote medicine." He doesn't look up or stops his movement. "I mean... Like songs, you won't expect me to write." I clarify. 

He bites his bottom lip. "I've never expected anything from you, Harry. That's not how friendship works. I'm sure the songs you write are beautiful." He reveals. "I'd like to hear them someday?" He asks. "Someday," I confirm. 

There seems to be no hope right now. I've hurt them all in unimaginable ways. I hurt her the most. They have a million reasons to go, but God knows I'll do whatever it takes. 

Quote: "Nobody puts Baby in a corner." - Dirty dancing.

Eglantine roses, Having a wound that needs to heal.

The worst is over for now. Thank you for sticking around!