How To Save A Life
That Fateful Day
"And I would have stayed up with you all night, Had I known how to save a life"- The Fray "How To Save A Life".
The day I found out that Harry Styles commited suicide, I didn't know what to think.
I stared up at Beth's face, her brown eyes red and puffy, with tear tracks running down her pale cheeks, not believing what I'd just heard. "What?" I asked again, wanting to know if I heard her right.
"I said Harry Styles, from One Direction, committed suicide yesterday evening" She said, before bursting out in tears again. She threw her arms around me, sobbing into my neck and I wrapped my arms around her feeling her sobs racking thoughout her body. "H-ow c-c-could t-this h-appen Az-z?" She asked through her sobs.
I swallowed hard, tightening my arms around her. I had absolutely know idea what to tell her whatsoever. I mean how could you tell your best friend the reason why her celebrity crush killed himself. "I don't know Beth" I told her softly. It was the only thing I could tell her at the moment.
When I'd first walked into school thirty minutes ago, I couldn't help but feel something was terribly wrong. It only increased when I saw many girls crying with their group of friends, hugging each other fiercely. I didn't know what to assume at first, I mean what conclusion can you come up with that could explain why the majority of girls in school were crying?
I really didn't know what to feel at the moment. It wasn't as if Harry Styles was my best friend or anything. On the contrary, the guy is- was- in a boy band, that was pretty popular here in the UK. I really didn't even know what he looked like, besides what Beth told me about him. I remember her telling me he had curly brown hair and these green eyes that were to die for.
I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact a celebrity had died, by suicide none the less. Why though? He was rich for godsakes, with girls thowing themselves at his feet. Why would Harry Styles kill himself? My heart was pounding erractically when I though of the sentence and I felt as if I was having an asthma attack at the moment and couldn't breath.
What the hell is happening to me?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I arrived home, I found my mother was sitting at the dining room table her hands folded together. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a high bun and she wore one of her perfectly pressed suits that she wore to work. My mother was a reporter on the news and is a hard working woman. My father was a high paid lawyer who worked later than my mother and was always on buisness trips.
"Hey Mum" I told her, surprised as I dropped my backpack by the front door. "Why are you home so early?"
Mum sighed heavily, her face looking grim as she leaned forward on her elbows. "I just came back on reporting the death of Harry Styles".
Well thats fine and dandy, but that doesn't explain why she's home. As if hearing my question she continued speaking. "I though you might want to talk about what happened". It took all of my composure to not start laughing at her words and ask if she'd been knocked upside the head recently.
"Thanks but not thanks Mum" I said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "There's nothing really to talk about".
She sighed. "It's not good to bottle up all your emotions Azelie". I winced when she spoke my full name, I realled hated my name. "What happened is very serious and I don't want you to-to-".
"Look Mum" I cut her off, my eyes narrowing "I'm not going to kill myself if that's what your thinking".
"Alright Azelie" She sighed, closing her eyes. "If you say so, but it would put my mind at ease if you talked with one of your psychologists at your school."
"Fine" I responded immediately. Most of the time it was so much easier if I just agreed with whatever my mother said. It made life with her easier. I grabbed my bag from where I dumped it by the door and made my way to my bedroom. I slammed the door shut behind me and tossed myself on my gigantic king sized bed.
After attempting to do my homework, which I failed, I threw all my books and assignments of my desk and onto the floor before dashing to my bed, curling under the covers. It was probably going to take a while for things to go back to normal and I sure as hell knew it wasn't going to be easy.
The day I found out that Harry Styles commited suicide, I didn't know what to think.
I stared up at Beth's face, her brown eyes red and puffy, with tear tracks running down her pale cheeks, not believing what I'd just heard. "What?" I asked again, wanting to know if I heard her right.
"I said Harry Styles, from One Direction, committed suicide yesterday evening" She said, before bursting out in tears again. She threw her arms around me, sobbing into my neck and I wrapped my arms around her feeling her sobs racking thoughout her body. "H-ow c-c-could t-this h-appen Az-z?" She asked through her sobs.
I swallowed hard, tightening my arms around her. I had absolutely know idea what to tell her whatsoever. I mean how could you tell your best friend the reason why her celebrity crush killed himself. "I don't know Beth" I told her softly. It was the only thing I could tell her at the moment.
When I'd first walked into school thirty minutes ago, I couldn't help but feel something was terribly wrong. It only increased when I saw many girls crying with their group of friends, hugging each other fiercely. I didn't know what to assume at first, I mean what conclusion can you come up with that could explain why the majority of girls in school were crying?
I really didn't know what to feel at the moment. It wasn't as if Harry Styles was my best friend or anything. On the contrary, the guy is- was- in a boy band, that was pretty popular here in the UK. I really didn't even know what he looked like, besides what Beth told me about him. I remember her telling me he had curly brown hair and these green eyes that were to die for.
I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact a celebrity had died, by suicide none the less. Why though? He was rich for godsakes, with girls thowing themselves at his feet. Why would Harry Styles kill himself? My heart was pounding erractically when I though of the sentence and I felt as if I was having an asthma attack at the moment and couldn't breath.
What the hell is happening to me?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I arrived home, I found my mother was sitting at the dining room table her hands folded together. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a high bun and she wore one of her perfectly pressed suits that she wore to work. My mother was a reporter on the news and is a hard working woman. My father was a high paid lawyer who worked later than my mother and was always on buisness trips.
"Hey Mum" I told her, surprised as I dropped my backpack by the front door. "Why are you home so early?"
Mum sighed heavily, her face looking grim as she leaned forward on her elbows. "I just came back on reporting the death of Harry Styles".
Well thats fine and dandy, but that doesn't explain why she's home. As if hearing my question she continued speaking. "I though you might want to talk about what happened". It took all of my composure to not start laughing at her words and ask if she'd been knocked upside the head recently.
"Thanks but not thanks Mum" I said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "There's nothing really to talk about".
She sighed. "It's not good to bottle up all your emotions Azelie". I winced when she spoke my full name, I realled hated my name. "What happened is very serious and I don't want you to-to-".
"Look Mum" I cut her off, my eyes narrowing "I'm not going to kill myself if that's what your thinking".
"Alright Azelie" She sighed, closing her eyes. "If you say so, but it would put my mind at ease if you talked with one of your psychologists at your school."
"Fine" I responded immediately. Most of the time it was so much easier if I just agreed with whatever my mother said. It made life with her easier. I grabbed my bag from where I dumped it by the door and made my way to my bedroom. I slammed the door shut behind me and tossed myself on my gigantic king sized bed.
After attempting to do my homework, which I failed, I threw all my books and assignments of my desk and onto the floor before dashing to my bed, curling under the covers. It was probably going to take a while for things to go back to normal and I sure as hell knew it wasn't going to be easy.
