Unfinished Memories [STARTED]

unedited as per usual y'all...

RILEY’S P.O.V.


Today’s the day; The day I haven’t thought I’d make it to. Graduation day.

The past month has been a complete whirlwind and I’m surprised that we’ve made it out as relatively unscathed as we have.

Unscathed isn’t an accurate word, though. We’re all beaten and battered; torn into a million pieces. But, we’re here, and that’s more than I can say for some people.

I adjust the gold cord on my arm, and straighten out the hideous black gown. The color makes me cringe, reminding me of the funeral service that we all attended only three weeks ago. It’s felt like ages, though, and I’m beginning to fear that I’ll forget Cory. Obviously, not in simplistic ways, but in the small details. I’ve already begun to question my memory on the color of his eyes; were they more blue or more green? I can’t bring myself to look at pictures, though. It’s too painful. Besides, pictures could never capture everything about him, which means I have to rely on my stupid brain, and it’s failing me horribly already. What’s it going to be like in a year? Five years? Twenty years? Despite the shit we’ve been through, Cory will always be one of the most important and prominent people in my life. That will never change, even now that he’s gone.

It’s still not real to me that he’s gone. He honestly seemed to be getting better; the fact that he went to New York alone was enough for us all to believe he was on the path to recovery. Depression was always something Cory dealt with, though, and I wish I could have taken it all away. I wish I could have absorbed those feelings and maybe even died instead. He was too great of a person for the world to have lost.

A lot of that was what I planned to say at his funeral service, too. I was going to say that he was great son, brother, friend, and poet. That he always knew how to logically calm me down without repercussions. That he knew how to brighten my day, even when his was absolute shit. I was going to say a lot of nice things about Cory.

I just couldn’t, though. I choked. I just cried, holding Liam’s hand for dear life. I hate myself for panicking and not speaking at the funeral. I’ll hate myself every day that I live for it. Cory deserved so much more than a bunch of crying people, along with a few disapproving remarks for taking his own life.

He was sick, though, and maybe, just maybe, if we had been less preoccupied with our own lives, we would have realized how much Cory needed us all, including me.

I shake away the memories and regrets, taking a deep breath and dabbing at my sloppy makeup. It isn’t like I cared enough to take my time on it. I’m walking at my graduation today simply because no one ever thought I could. My parents have dragged me down with hurtful words my entire life; and, everyone else just babies me, secretly believing that I’m too weak and dependent to finish anything as monumental as a degree. The only person who truly, and whole-heartedly thought I could make it to where I am now, is dead. I’m here, angry and in mourning, to prove a bunch of people wrong; most importantly, myself.

“Riles?” The knock on my door is barely audible, but Liam’s faint voice carries through the room.

“Yeah,” my voice is weak, so I clear my throat softly, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

I glance at myself in the mirror one last time, but I can’t bring myself to look at my eyes. My eyes have been so empty and sunken since Cory died. I feel like I’m looking at a stranger. I simply check that my hair and gown are on properly, and turn away toward the door. I rest my hand on the knob for a second and take a deep breath before turning it. Liam is standing there with that same sympathetic face that he’s worn for the past month. It makes me feel weak and pathetic, but I couldn’t survive without it.

“How are you feeling today?” His hand rests on my lower back gently and comfortingly.
I simply shrug and lean on his shoulder as we walk through the living room, “I don’t know. Sad, angry, and nostalgic. The usual.”

He nods and I see a flash of jealousy in his eyes. He would never admit it, but the amount of emotion Cory’s death has pulled from me has made Liam more possessive than he was when Cory was alive. It doesn’t make any sense to me, but I can’t really be upset with him for it. Liam has been the shining light in my life throughout this mess. He’s been the only light. The boys’ tour ended shortly after their break around Christmas and Harry and Liam have been in Florida ever since. We all left New York early and had the funeral soon after. Then, there were only two shows that next week, but the boys flew back and forth each time.

I haven’t seen Piper much in the past month. From what I’ve heard, she hasn’t left her parents house at all. Harry has visited a few times, picking up some of Piper’s things each time. No one has touched Cory’s room. It’s been left exactly the same since Cory was last there. I don’t even think the door has been opened. No one wants to acknowledge the emptiness of it all. I watch Harry stare at the door in a blank daze every time he’s over, but he solemnly turns away to leave after a few seconds.

I know how hard he’s trying to be helpful to Piper, but I can tell that he’s hurting as well. He’s wanting to be strong for everyone, but he’s really beating himself up over being the last person to see Cory. He hasn’t really spoken about what happened, but from what we’ve all gathered, he was there when Cory jumped. I can’t fathom the awful memories he must have.

“C’mon, love. We don’t want to be late,” Liam grabs my purse from the counter and checks that the keys are in his pocket. He bought a car the second week he was here since I don’t have one. It’s comforting that he sees his stay as a somewhat permanent one. I don’t want to imagine what will happen when he has to leave, which is unfortunately inevitable.

I nod to myself as we walk out of the door, slowly making our way down the hall to the elevator. I feel my stomach rumbling and begin to wonder how I’ll ever make it across that damned stage when all I can think about is how irrelevant and unimportant it all is in the scheme of things.


HARRY’S P.O.V.


“Piper?” I knock on the door as lightly as I can.

There’s no response and I’m not surprised. It’s been like this for a month, and today is the first day that she’s actually made a promise to leave the house. I look down at my fitted suit and realize that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to wear real clothes. The farthest I’ve gone from Piper’s parents’ house is to the grocery store and her old dorm. I’ve slowly been collecting her things to pack. I can’t believe we’re moving her over to England in less than a week. None of that, though, has required more preparation than some sweats or jeans, and a t-shirt. I’ve been pulling my hair up into a bun so it’s not so noticeably insane.

I don’t bother knocking again, opening the door to our room instead. It’s really Piper’s childhood room, but for the past month it’s been ours. One thing that I’m thankful for is that she hasn’t tried pushing me away through all of this. She’s pushed everyone else away, but not me, and I couldn’t be more relieved.

I keep telling her that if she doesn’t go out soon, everyone will miss her entire pregnancy. She’s sort of beginning to show, but not much. Her breasts are so sensitive, though, and every time we’ve made love, which has only been a few times and only in the past week, she’s cried because it felt so good. Basically, I already really love Piper pregnant.
It seems to me that she’s trying to occupy herself with her pregnancy. Anything that she can read about babies, or talk about with me about babies, she will to distract herself from- well, from what happened to Cory.

I don’t like talking about it, not even within my head. It just hurts- physically hurts- to remember that night. I’ve attempted to suppress the memory of it all, but every time I sleep, it’s all I dream of. Every moment, frame by frame, flashes through my head, and I wake up screaming or crying- usually both. It wakes Piper up, and she knows what I’m dreaming. That only makes her cry and then she loses sleep.

So, I’ve made a habit of not sleeping, and it hasn’t been too bad yet. Sometimes when Piper is sleeping deeply, I’ll sneak out to my car and take a quick nap. The nightmares are enough to make me never want to sleep, though, whether I’m hurting Piper or not.

For that reason, I’ve taken up reading much like Piper. Distracting myself with the baby has been the best mode of maintaining a sliver of sanity.

I had Karen take Andy back home. I couldn’t subject her to the sadness and depression that fills this house. She shouldn’t have to add to the upsetting memories that she already has from witnessing all of our heartache on the night of his death.

I call her every night before her bedtime, which is the middle of the day here, and read her a bed time story. Piper tries to talk to her some as well, and we put on happy voices every time and tell her how much we love and miss her.

Karen says that Andy has already been making pictures for her new sibling. She wants a little sister, but says that she’ll be nice even if it’s a brother. Talking to Andy, and talking to Piper’s belly, are the only moments when I smile anymore.

When I walk into the room, Piper is laying stiffly on top of the sheets in a simple black dress. Her hair is tamed and pulled back, and she’s wearing a small amount of makeup. She’s gazing at the ceiling and doesn’t turn to look at me when I enter.

“Sweetheart, we have to leave now if we’re going to be on time,” I sit down on the edge of the bed resting my hand over hers on her stomach.

She nods silently and sniffs. I quickly lean over to press my lips to her forehead, “No, love. Please don’t cry. I know it’s a lot to leave and all, but you’ll never forgive yourself if you miss Riley’s graduation.”

She nods again, but when she opens her mouth to speak, only wails depart. She sits up and hugs my neck, resting her head on my shoulder, “I can’t bring myself to wear something else. I wanted to wear a green dress so I could match your tie, but it made me feel like I looked happy and I can’t do that. It’ll seem like I’ve forgotten him, Harry. I can’t-“

“Shhh,” I wipe the tears from her cheeks and hold her tightly to my chest, “You can wear black if you want to. You don’t have to, though, love. You’re allowed to wear green. No one will think you’ve forgotten him. Everyone knows you’re in pain. We just don’t want it to mean that you’ve lost yourself. You’re so strong, Piper. You’re okay.”

I don’t exactly know what I’m saying, but I just want to be supportive. That’s the only thing I want.

“I want to wear green,” she stops crying abruptly and I peck her cheek.

“Then, let’s wear green, yeah?” I pull away and walk over to her closet, taking the green dress that is hanging from the door. I take it off of the hanger and ask her to stand. She does, reaching back to try to un-zip her dress. I rest the green dress on the bed and step behind her, removing her hands from the zipper and completing the task myself. I pull the straps off of her shoulders and push the black dress down her hips until they fall to the floor. She steps out of it as I reach over and retrieve the green dress. I stand in front of her and kneel down, grinning weakly at her. She rests her hand on my shoulder and steps into the dress I’m holding out for her. I stand slowly and pull the dress up, keeping my body close to hers as she slips her arms through the straps. I reach around her body and begin to zip the green dress, my lips gently finding hers at the same time.

The kiss isn’t heated, and it isn’t sexual. It’s simply a reminder that I’m here, a part of her, and I’m never going anywhere. I clasp the dress above the zipper and pull my lips away and simply hold her for a few seconds, whispering softly in her ear, “I love you.”

Her breathing is shaky, “I love you, too. Thank you.”

I almost begin to ask what she was thanking me for, but I think I know. I think she’s thanking me for being here. I hope she still wants me here, because at this point, I can’t survive without her.

“We’re going to be okay,” I pull away, holding her hands in mine before adding, “eventually. I promise.”

She nods, just barely, but she does, “I know. We’ll be okay when we leave. And when we have this baby. We’ll be a family.”

She forces a smile, but I can tell it isn’t genuine. Nothing has been genuine in a month, but it’s still more than she’s attempted ever since that night. I’m almost even starting to believe myself.

I guess we will be okay... Eventually.

Notes