Thursday 26th August

Lying here, in the sanctuary of my bed, the clock tells me that it's 9am. Mother and Daddy, having long ago departed for work, have left the house abandoned, except for the humming of the washing machine. Even on full cycle it's such a lonely spin.

I turn on to my stomach, now staring at the wood stained headboard, unable to forget the dream I've just had. It haunts me, making me question reality. If it's true, then it means that we're friends again, but it can't be, as I've remembered what I've got planned for today; nothing.

The embargo continues, which is morally the right thing to do, since they are the ones to goad this whole sorry mess. Okay, it's not like I've got much of a choice, and so in the absence of a better excuse, I will use virtue and morals to explain why I'm lying here, alone, on this sunny day. It's got nothing to do with the fact that I haven't got any friends, because there are lots of people who fall in to this category, it's just that my transient amnesia is preventing me from re-calling their names and contact details right now. And so with another day of nothingness ahead of me, I can't help but think that an immoral life would probably be a lot more fun.

I pretended to be asleep, but sensed from the light footsteps that he was in the room. Eager to excite I angled my body, aware that any remaining light would fall upon it perfectly, erasing away the blemishes of real life, and highlighting the smooth contours of my breasts and stomach.

The lightness of his breath stroked kindly against my face; my trap had worked. His lips pressed against mine and I gave a secret half smile. I opened my eyes. It had gotten dark out, and he was like a ghost, dancing in front of me. I savoured the sweetness of his gentle lips, now contrasting with the tickling sensation of his most wonderful tongue, which was moving firmly against my own in slow circular movements. I raised my hand to his hair,

'Oh Harry,' I grasped, hard.

I was kissing Harry Styles. No, I'll correct that, Harry Styles was kissing me; he'd come to find me.

'What are you doing?' A fraught voice interrupted our union.

'Stop it, get off him! He's mine!'

'No he's not, he's mine.' Natasha pulled at my hair.

This is hopeless. What a gargantuan pile of mucktrupityness this has become, a simmering mound of puke that only I am able to resolve. Oh why can't it ever be easy, but alas I'm going to have to phone Natasha, if only to diffuse this wretched dynamic. There really is no other option, and so if she wants Harry Styles so much then she can have him.

'Well I'm busy today, so I can't help you I'm afraid, but tomorrow everyone is going to the Festival. I've got a spare ticket if you want it?'

'Oh Natasha, that would be wonderful. So what have you been up to?'

Natasha is going out with Matt. Let me make that clear; it's official, and is definitely not just a passing fling - it's serious. So much for her loyalty to Harry and the fart bomb she has inflicted up on my life in his honour. Here I was thinking that he was the love of her life, and that Matt had been a mere fleeting entertainment, but boy was I wrong, and she's making sure that everyone knows that when she enters in to a relationship, it's fully loaded with the expectation that marriage and babies will be the outcome.

'There's no point wasting my time on someone who isn't "The One". People who settle for less are just weak. When I'm with someone I want to know that they cherish me, that they want to shower me with gifts, but most of all that they want to have the biggest, most glamorous wedding ever. They need to treat me like a princess, which is exactly what Matt does. He's so sweet and considerate. Yesterday he bought me a cupcake with a ring on top, and on Monday he bought me a bunch of lilies. I wonder what he's going to buy me today?'

Friday 27th August

Natasha grabbed at Matt, dragging him flailing to the front of the swollen crowd.

'It's the place to be seen,' she boasted, 'you'll never get noticed if you stand at the back for the rest of your life.'

How I loathe to have resorted to listening to this claptrap again, but I must hold strong with the belief that I really had little choice in the matter, unless of course I want to be a total zero nobody loser loner for the rest of my life; the girl that everyone smiles at with sympathy, but never enough to actual bear the smell of my pitiful body odour to come talk to me. Still, I am making an effort to engage with society just by being here at this flea infested event and so I was more than happy to watch the two of them embark on their fame trek, whilst I respectably retained my anonymity, bedding in at the back of the crowd.

Laying my blanket on to the only free bit of ground, I immediately recoiled, gross; I'd put my hand in a squashed, decaying chip.

'Ugh.' A body sprawled next to me, possibly about to be marked as dead. Studying the head attached to it, I squirmed at what was perhaps the most grotesque face I have ever seen; all grey and spotty, and now it was moving its gingerness towards my blanket. Get away from me you zombified cretin! Reluctant to touch it, for fear of contracting something infectious, and angry that it thought it acceptable to encroach up on my space without so much as asking, I pushed at its head with my backpack. Relief; it surrendered easily, accepting that the mouldy trodden food items of the ground offered a more attainable pillow. But a maggot chomped torso was easy compared to the horror to entrap me next as I unknowingly entered the serpent lined corridors of hell. Please dear Lord save me. Somebody?

'Harry!' I grabbed at the familiar arm, the angel so prophetically sent to save me, to rescue me from my now rigid position. 'Thank gosh you're here. It's been awful.' I'd been cemented to that now lousy blanket for over an hour, forlorn and distressed as the Devil and his disciples partied about me.

'Can we get out of here please?'

'But what about your blanket?'

'Leave it. I never want to see it again.'

'Why, what's happened?'

'Oh Harry, that group of boys who were sitting with me,' I broke down, 'well I never invited them, they just bombarded me, and I couldn't get rid of them, and they kept grinning at me, except for one of them, who I think might have been dead, or about to die, but I didn't care about saving his life, I just wanted them all to disappear, and then, well you're not going to believe this, but one of them, the leader, he got this plastic packet out of his pocket, and from it, well, he started to pour some white powder on to the blanket, my blanket, and then...'

'What?'

'I don't know if it was just my imagination, but I'm sure that he was snorting it, and then the rest of them joined in too!'

'What was it?'

'Cocaine,' I mouthed, desperate that no one should hear me utter a word so abhorrent, 'I nearly threw up there and then; it was really that terrifying. I mean, I never thought that people actually did things like that, for real. What sort of place is this?' Now clinging to his neck, I relished the scent of his familiarity.

'It's alright. Have a chip;' Harry offered his bag towards me, 'what's so funny?'

'Oh I don't know; I think I've gone off chips.'

Later

'Natasha will be wondering where we are.' We must have fallen asleep, for my next conscious thought was that dusk was upon us. 'There are so many people, how are we ever going to find her?'

'This way,' Harry grabbed at my left arm, 'I know a short cut.'

'We're in a field in the middle of nowhere, how can you possibly know a short cut?'

'Shush!' Ignoring my sensibilities he grumbled, continuing to lead me away from the populous, and in to the forested labyrinth.

'You're not going to get it out are you?' As the canopy of trees consumed us, I realised that I had lived this scene before, being dragged through the brambles by Harry. 'Is that why you've brought me here, because I'm telling you now I'd really rather you didn't.'

'Get what out?'

'Your thing.'

'What thing?'

'Your willy,' I whispered.

'Um, I wasn't planning on it, unless of course you want me to?'

'Aren't you listening to me? Of course I don't want you to. It was bad enough last time.'

'Last time? What are you talking about?' Maybe he really had forgotten?

'Wait,' he stopped amongst the twisted prism of twigs and thorns.

'Have you seen something?' I studied the darkness which filled our vision, now grasping tightly at his hand.

'Do you know how much I missed you?' He picked up both of my hands, which coupled with the strength of his smile, conceded that he was mine again.

'I missed you too.' With my breathing now shallow, he cautiously inched his body towards mine, aligning my waist in to a mirror image of his own. I struggled to catch my breath, now aware of what he was about to do.

As Harry leaned in I waited, anticipating the moment which would allow us both the indulgence of the lingering, longed for kiss that we both so desired.

'Stop!'

'What's the matter?' Quite rightly he looked offended.

'Did you see it?'

'See what?'

'I'm not sure, but someone, a white figure, just ran between the trees.'

Harry assessed the vicinity, 'there's nothing there you idiot.'

'No there is, I'm certain; I think its ghost, we've got to make a run for it.'

'Wait, you're right, there is someone there.' He grabbed on to my waist pulling me reassuringly closer, 'and it looks to me like...a moron dressed in a toga, trying to climb a tree; you dumbass!'