The Reason I Come Home

 

Tablo reader up chevron

Author's Note

I wrote this book in different 7 versions before it's the book that I hope your answers about existence in artificial way, It's not a religious book it's a novel book that discussing people's life and death.
I wrote it hoping that I'd help those who suffering with their emotions in serious way it doesn't have to be clinically issue you better than anybody, you're the only one who allowed to judge yourself.
If you're or your love one have a fear of having such an issue -or just a reader who's searching for something to enjoy in the free time- I hope you read this note carefully before you go head and read the following pages:
This book meanly about cancer and the depression that comes along with, it's not a Romance to be told, it's more as General book with warning.
“The Reason I Come Home” -Novel- Includes:
Heavy mention of depression, I can't just avoid this kind of thoughts in this book 'cause this is meanly what the book about; but if you think you might be have a problem with this please don't read at all I want to help not to make things worse for anyone.
Self-harm and suicidal thoughts and heavy mention of anhedonia, dysphoria, dysthymia and major affective disorder.
Just to expect everything I'll give warning every chapter so don't worry I'll be more specific about each in the book.
If you decide to read -even for your curiously mood- I want to thank you and I really did this work to help others -and maybe for you curious people to enjoy ☺.

I had posted this book on "Archive Of Our Own" and "Wattpad" too.
If you have any questions -things you don't understand in the book maybe- I can gladly explain it, you can contact me comment below or just send me on my twitter @Niav_Eden
                                                                                                              all the love ♥- N. Eden

 

Comment Log in or Join Tablo to comment on this chapter...

Prologue

I think everybody lived enough to realize that life isn't about what do we want, life is not always fair but doesn't that what it has to be?
He told me there's a reason for our existence, I thought if both of our hearts were broken then he doesn't have to be true; but I believe he's.
 
I don't have any idea how I end up drawing in the wild open water of life, I don't know how I end up in the darkness of the depth; I know we lost our breathes into this dystopian world, we spend years with those secret darkness that we locked in our closets away from anybody to reach nobody believed he was really sick or needed help.
Harry was hanging on the cliff of existence when I held him back and I didn't know he was going to be my little thing, my reason to be around.

 

Comment Log in or Join Tablo to comment on this chapter...

Chapter 1'

►(A/N): Mention of medical searches.
December 23th- Day 1
You Don't choose some of the events that happen in your life time; but you diffidently choose how to react about, how to deal with it, how to let it run it's course and whether or not you want to get over them.
I found myself floating in existence not knowing what I supposed to do with my life, or simply I hadn't thought about it too seriously before, that just wasn't part of who I was, my current life has the tendency to take me back and forth and I never seemed to have the time to stop and really thinking about it, I thought I Knew what I wanted to do and that was to be a therapist.
Which I become!
I wanted to be able to help all those small figures, those who had the misfortune of cancer; I loved being there for them, listening to all their fears, getting an insight into their broken hearts. I loved being the one they choose to tell everything to, all their confusion and all their sadness, when they act totally innocent that still wore their heart on their sleeve, I loved being the one who got to share in it.
But as a therapist, at times I would find myself hating my job, while l loved being part of the children cancer ward, hoping I could help them in some infinitesimal way to stay bright and upbeat, with just a little hope. Hope seemed to be the key, when they started hoping to get better, that they could beat the cancer, deep down you could see it was what they really wished for, and to actually have the hope and believe in it, it seemed to make them a little happier.
It was the evening of December 24th when I met Harry Styles, it was a cold unforgiving evening that brought with nothing but the rain and snow.
Walking into my office room at St. Merry Hospital, located in London with my refreshment cup of tea securely in my hand, I noticed a new file on the top the mayhem that was my desk, guessing it was left by one of the nurses, I sat down behind my desk, sipping at my slowly cooling tea, I begin haphazardly poring through the pages, Realizing it was the file of a new patient I was due to meet in just a few minutes.
Putting the file down upon my closed bag, I crossed the room in order to turn the radio on, it was old and dingy, but it did the trick, I just need to hear the noise, emptiness unnerved me, and with the radio I was almost able to pretend I wasn’t alone, nothing really excited me except something to do with testing of transformer cells and new results, running my hand along the dial I turned it up to hear better....
“In a new conflict between scientist’s and social opinion in the matter of using fetus cells as a way to treat cancer, Scientists think it would be a great success and may bring a new hope to all those with the dreadful disease, others think it should be a criminal act, fearing it may cause unnecessary harm to the fetus, and therefore should not be covered by insurance, however in recent discovery a doctor came across the fact that a snakes poison that in clinical trials, has shown some ability to treat brain tumors... this sets into motion a couple of more, even if I may say unusual option for new hope waiting for humanity and the fight against cancer.”
Jumping a little over the sound of my electronic note, bring me back to the here and now, notifying me of my impending lateness with my new client on our very first meeting, I switched the radio off, and tucked my phone into my bag at the same time as slipping the previously abandoned notes inside, walking to the needed room I smiled while greeting a women “Evening Rosie, I have a meeting here, with a Harry, Harry styles.
"Evening Mr. Tomlinson" the nurse said bubbly smiling when I said:" I have a meeting here with Harry... Harry Styles" she took a look into her files then said:" yea, that's right, can you hold a minute? I'll just go grab him for you" she was going to walk to his room when I said:" If it's alright with you, I would like to go myself."
"Actually he has some visitors" she said, when I asked:"okay, fair enough, just don't... don't cut them off, I can wait a bit longer if need be, its fine he's my last patient for today" I replied, feeling a bit ashamed for my earlier hurry.
She smiled softly then said:" thank you, Mr. Tomlinson, your generosity with your time is much appreciated"
It was really just part of the job, cancer patients needed all the support they could get, I knew that anybody would prefer their family over a therapist, it was after all understandable, so I thought it better idea to give up a bit of my own time and stay late at work to give him a little more time with his family, to a cancer patient time is limited, and there is no way to tell just how much is left.
Walking to the waiting room I took a seat, I watched as a women sitting there with another man seemingly her husband based on the matching rings, they looked sick with which only intensified when a doctor came to speak to them, they both stood up when the doctor talked to them for short while I understood why with what I could overhear,  he said:" “I suggest that we start chemotherapy right away,” The woman, who I now assumed to be The Mother, collapsed a little into her husband’s arms, her breathing becoming more erratic as she tried to hold in her sobs, “I’m so sorry, but there are no other options, especially when it comes to cancer.” It sounded harsh, but it always does, it’s never pleasant, to tell a parent that their baby is going to suffer; it was almost harder than having the cancer.
I stood up, still watching them as she succumbed to her sobs, helplessly crying into her husband’s shoulder, I found myself feeling the same way I had felt ten years ago, when I had watched my own mom crying out in unseen pain after my own cancer news, I was frozen and feeling as helpless as the crying mum, when I was jolted out of my déjà vu,
"Mr. Tomlinson the patient is ready to meet you" Nurse Rosie said to me, I looked at her when she said a little louder when I failed to respond:" the patient is ready to meet you Mr."
"I'll be there in a minute" I mumbled walking to the bathroom, pushing the door open and heading straight for the faucet, washing wetness that seemed like tears from my hands and face, I couldn't understand why I still crying over a memory that I definitely should be old enough to leave in the past, I always react the same each and every time I walked in on somebody else ’s life changing moment.
As I washed my face I took a long look at my reflection in the above the mirror, noticing my pale complexion,  I put it down to sheer exhaustion, too many sleepless nights followed by over thinking about the world, and everything I was doing with my life. It felt as if I was beginning to become lost, and I was desperately in need of a way to remind myself why I stayed.  I stayed because of the kids, because it was my job to listen to their broken hearts, especially when there was nobody else. Also the ones who had no idea what to say in the first place, because it seemed as if there was nothing to say, when all stories in life were about just that life,  when rudely their story is only of death, it was my love to believe that in some infinitesimal way, I could reach them and spread light around their broken wings, that I could find something that would change their minds, and show them other outcomes that hadn’t seen before, that cancer isn’t just a death sentence, it was all these feelings and words that kept going around in circles, when I lay awake at night, thinking of new ways I could help these kids in their time of need.
I couldn't help but love what cancer had made me, in it I had found the answer for the most complicated question of my life, while so many people had lost contact with even the simple question, though I had never thought about it till I thought I was too close to death, that question was, ‘what am I doing with my life?’  I can say that I was blessed with cancer, because through it I came to know what I was meant to be dong with my life.
Knocking on my next patient’s door, asking for my permission to enter, I never just entered, even if it was almost protocol for hospitals, I refused to be the one to destroy any feeling of normalcy, taking away the sense of being a normal human. I liked to make my patients feel respected and it home, even if they were too sick and had to stay away from their homes for the treatments they needed.
The hallway was so quite, it amazed me to hear the humming that came from the other side of the door. Opening the door to reveal the nearly dark room with my soft smile in place, I needed to look friendly, it was all to import for a first impression, sometimes my friendly demeanor put me in danger of patient refusal,  but usually it helped, to act as if you already knew somebody even when you don’t, it allows them to trust you, and I give my reason to be trusted by like them, putting my heart on my sleeve, it allows them to reason out that I will not be just another danger in their already unsteady life.
He was laying half-upright in his bed, the hospital stand blue fiber blanket covered him from waist down, his bright green eyes glued to his laptop that sitting upon his lap his long fingers ready to race alongside keyboard, his face was drawn and pale evidently the sign and sleepless nights and overall tiredness, he had beautiful chocolaty curly hair, it was swiped to one side, sliding softly over his forehead, he had cute front teeth that just added to the overall sense of innocence his general look gave off, just as everybody in the children ward, he looked to young
“Good evening,” I said secretly checking his name on my notes, he didn’t notice, he ignored my presence choosing instead to keep his attention on his laptop screen, slipping my notes back into my bag, I introduced myself “Hi, I’m Louis.”
He turned finally looking at me as he mumbled:" evening"
" I'm here to offer help...urhrm actually I'm..."
" the therapist... I know".
This surprised me, I mean it wasn’t as if I didn’t expect him to know this knowledge, of who I was and what I was doing in his room, but also his actions gave me a sense that this wasn’t going to be easy,  that he may be aware of the game I might play over him, and he wasn’t about to allow them to work that easily.
“You’re not the first you know?” he said, glancing at me, as if to gauge my own reaction, see what I was going to do next.
“I know”
"You think you can make me feel better though?" he was smiling; it was more as an offensive smile almost to his laptop screen, as he typed away.
 " I'm not supposed to control your feeling, it's up to you to feel what you want and to choose what to ignore."
He flicked his eyes towards me, his face blank, I smiled briefly searching for a seat, signaling towards a singly blue armchair in the room “Do you mind if I have a seat?”
He shook his head, going back to looking at his laptop screen; I pulled the blue armchair closer to his bed, placing my bag on the floor next to me.  I wasn’t really used to a patient being okay, the fact that they weren’t directly having any mental issues was more than true, it was the cancer not their heads, cancer pulled them down, it depressed them, and that was their problem.
Under normal circumstances, I would never get his trust that easy. But he was a cancer patient, it tends to teach you a lot about who you can let close to you, who you can trust and rely on, who will stay and who will never leave, no matter how bad things get, he will be there as time goes on and you get weaker and weaker.
The boy looked small in the hospital bed, especially with the blankets around his waist, his shoulders being supported by pillows, his laptop resting on his lap, eyes still glued to it. He looked as if he was waiting, waiting for death to come, for the finally play of everything that had happened in his own life, waiting for his unwelcome death, almost impatiently, he looked as if he had already given up.
"Do you have anything to talk about? I'm here to listen to you whatever you wanted to say"  I asked, unzipping my jacket and placing it over the back of the chair, he mumbled something unclear I guessed it was “I know.”
I couldn’t push him to talk, I mean he needed time, to be sure he had a reason to need me to be present, or at least work out that he could trust me somehow, I just told myself internally that he needed time, that was all.”  
Remaining seated in the armchair and crossing my legs underneath me I pulled out a book, it was a birthday gift from Sophia that I had kept to read, if I ever got free time, and this seemed like some.
It was an English copy of Paul Claudel's tragedy play 'The Tidings Brought to Mary' it was my first time to read this play in kind of written shape.
It was an English copy of Paul Claudel’s tragedy play ‘ The Tidings Brought To Mary' it was the first time I was reading the play, in any kind of written form, It was the evening of December 23rd when I had however seen it on TV, Mom was tugging me close to her side with he left hand, he right smoothed small circles in my once longer hair, I could remember the soft noise of the TV, so quite that I couldn’t even make out half of it, I felt so safe sitting with Mom, it was as if it was just her and I, nobody else in the whole planet, everything else was ignorable, as our eyes watched Paul Claudel’s play.
It was an early birthday gift, she had wanted me to get it before she went to visit her family in the holidays, along with Liam (my best mate and his fiancé) I stole quick looks at Harry between the beginning lines, I was trying to read his mind, to be able to understand him, I felt myself become affected, it was just something about him, while he continued his preferred tactics and choose to ignoring my existence, eyes still glued to the laptop, almost like he thought if he tried hard enough he may be able to stare a hole right through it.   
I was left with no other choice than to take this as his way of saying no he was not talking, I looked into the book in my hand again, thinking that the lines on the page was my only friend right now.
It is the beginning of the 15th Century; it is just before the break of dawn, about 5 A.M., out in the countryside of France. A great cathedral builder, a genius, Pierre de Craon is leaving, almost sneaking away from the home of a prosperous peasant family with whom he’s been staying. He’s been in the area to get stone. He’s now accomplished that. He’s been there to get stone for this great new cathedral to St. Justitia. Now he is sneaking out and returning to Reims. All of a sudden a beautiful 18-year-old farm girl, Violaine, calls to him, ―Halt, my lord knight.‖ He’s startled; he tells her to go away; he’s says that she should know that he is not a man to be trusted. She talks to him in a very loving and playful way, and asks him why he hasn’t shown himself, why he hasn’t been around this last time."
* Flashback *
“Can you breathe alright Louis?” Mom asked, checking the cannula that was inserted into my nose, when I nodded slightly I was so exhausted after the chemotherapy I had just had. She pulled me closer hugging me as she whispered into my ear. “you are going to be fine Louis” I nodded once more as she kissed my sweaty forehead, she had tears running down her face, she had been crying a lot, I knew it was the stress of seeing me dying, it was hard for her to watch the life slowly slip out of me, and all I could do about it was watch and wait, putting her arm around me I placed my head on her thigh, she kissed my hair. The room was all but dark, save the light coming from the TV screen, from where I lay, I couldn’t see the screen, I was listing to the soft noise of their Voices
“: Sweet lying Violaine! Didn’t I see you tenderly embrace Pierre De Craon on a beautiful June morning?
Violaine: You saw everything. There was nothing else to see.
Mara: Why did you kiss him as if were so precious?
Violaine: The poor man was a leper and I was full of happiness that day.
Mara: And so you did it all in innocence?
Violaine: Like a little girl who kisses a poor small boy.
Mara: Can I believe you, Violaine?
Violaine: It is true.
Mara: Don’t tell me it was willingly you left me Jacques.
Violaine: No, not willingly. I loved him. I am not so perfect.
Mara: Did you expect him to love you still when you were a leper?
Violaine: No, I didn’t expect it.
Mara: Who could ever love a leper?
Violaine: My heart is pure.
Mara: But, how could Jacques know this? He looks upon you as a criminal.
Violaine: Our mother had told me that you loved him.
Mara: Don’t tell me that she made you a leper.
Violaine: God cautioned me with His grace.
Mara: So that when our mother spoke to you...
Violaine:... It was still His voice I heard.”
* End Flashback *
Mom spent that night, in late December with me hugging her close, while she did the same with me, almost as if, were she to move away from me and loosen her grip, than I might slip away, I could feel my chest wheezing as she looked at me with those sad blue eyes, she was silently begging me not to die, as if she could be my savior, begging me not to leave her alone, I remember wanting to reach for her hand, to assure her that I wasn’t going anywhere, as long as didn’t give up on me, however i could see that she already had, she was just waiting for he when. When my lungs could no longer inhale air. I could remember her whispering soft words, but my memory is a bit shady about her voice, whether or not is was shaking with her words, as her hand drew small circles into my hair
I opened different page chosen at random one, I stopped to read…
'Violaine and Jacques, after they have finished, make up a long story to placate the family. Jacques says that his mother who lives several towns away is dying and doesn’t have long to live and she wants to see her future daughter-in-law. That allows Violaine to leave her home, and instead of going to her mother-in-law, of course, they go to Géyn where the lepers live. Seven years pass. Mara has married Jacques. They have a baby girl and it is Christmas Eve. The baby girl has died suddenly. Mara takes the dead baby into the freezing cold night. She’s searching for her leper sister who she has not seen in seven years. She sees workmen clearing the road for the Dauphin who will be crowned the next day in Reims with the help of Joan of Arc. It is here that we find out that Pierre de Craon has been healed'.
 “You’re ruining the play” I was cut off from my reading, as Harry spoke to me, I didn’t think he was going to talk, least of all today, and I definitely did not think the conversation would be about the book I was holding in my hands. “Can you please be a normal human and read the poor book from the beginning, for god’s sake the author didn’t write all of those pages, just for you to read the end.” My jaw dropped down for a moment.
“I didn’t, I don’t read the end, I’m actually, I want to make my own picture of the book, than fill in the finally details as I read it, I’m sanctifying my curiosity.”
“Impatient idiot” was his response, still not looking at me, I don’t think It was meant for my ears, but they had already heard.
“Pardon me?”
“Impatient idiot, the person who buys a book to read the last pages is such an idiot” Still not looking at me, still keeping his voice soft and low.  
“First of all, I didn’t buy the book, a friend of mine did, therefore technically I didn’t choose the book, second I already have a fair idea about the play’s chapters” I said, going on the defense,  realizing too late that I had given this boy information about my friends and self, when that wasn’t part of the job.  
“You can do whatever you want” He replied, tossing me a somewhat disapproving look. It surprised me that he was defending a book this way, so surprised that I couldn’t find anything to further defend my argument that would seem realistic enough for skipping pages, and he looked to damn serious about the whole thing.   
“How can somebody trust you, when you’re skipping pages, doing that?” He looked back towards his laptop screen, as I felt anger growing inside me, I couldn’t understand either his reaction nor my anger, I couldn’t fathom why his opinion seemed to affect me so much, and I still wanted to prove my point.
“Doing what?”
“Being a stealer reader, stealing words from the end and start just to prove that you have read a book, and judging it by the cover, when he didn’t even read it all; they should make a strict rule, or law about stealer readers,” He was almost mocking, apparently his words could be distinguishable with different tones, “Somebody should probably tell her about this, I don’t think she will like to hear that you ruin the book before you even read it.”
“How do you know it’s a she, a girl I mean?” I asked curious,
“Who?”
“The person who sent me the book, how do you know it’s a girl?” I couldn’t tell you why I was asking him this, but I was overly curious as to how he had figured it out.
“I think somebody who would send a boy that kind of book, would definitely be a girl, because it seems, you know girly, boys generally wouldn’t really have much interest in such a tragic romantic type of book themselves, and definitely wouldn’t send it as a gift.” He was blushing slightly, as he brought a hand up to run his fingers through his curly hair, it was obvious the boy was smart, and I was impressed by his observation.
“Well, you are right, it was a girl, but as for what boys are interested in, I’m not so sure that even I could judge that.” I smiled, totally intrigued with this new patient.  
“I’m 80% right.” He made a note looking at his laptop, we fell into silence than, except for his fingers that his the keyboard as he typed something on the seemingly well loved laptop.
“I think you win, I’ll just listen to you and read it like a normal human would, from beginning to end” I said cutting the quietness of the room, I noticed a sly smile upon the boys face.  Going back to the beginning all over again, I opened the early pages of the written play, we were then plunged into silence until he interrupted it,
“I like that play.”
“Have you read it before?” I asked,
Shaking his head “No, I watched it with a friend of mine.”
“If you want I can read it to you?” I offered, wishing he would just find it a good offer and say yes, I didn’t think about the offer at all, it just left my tongue without any thought.  
“Have they mentioned to you that I’m actually older than eight?” He asked jokingly
“I guess they did, but I think I can read it for both of us, if you want, does that sound too bad?”
“Not really”
I smiled, “Okay than, I can read it for both of us.” He nodded, shutting the computer down, with just a simple touch of the keyboard, proceeding to place the laptop onto the floor, getting comfortable on the bed to turn and face me, sinking into the hill of pillows he looked tired, I properly noticed the dark circles under his sleepy eyes, and the pale complexion and milky white skin where he bare skin was exposed through his short sleeved shirt.
“You can start,” He said comfortably, while I opened the first pages and begin to read aloud.   
‘It is again the beginning of the 15th Century; it is just before the break of dawn, about 5 A.M., out in the countryside of France. A great cathedral builder, a genius, Pierre de Craon is leaving, almost sneaking away from the home of a prosperous peasant family with whom he’s been staying. He’s been in the area to get stone. He’s now accomplished that. He’s been there to get stone for this great new cathedral to St. Justitia. Now he is sneaking out and returning to Reims. All of a sudden a beautiful 18-year-old farm girl, Violaine, calls to him, ―Halt, my lord knight.‖ He’s startled; he tells her to go away; he’s says that she should know that he is not a man to be trusted. She talks to him in a very loving and playful way, and asks him why he hasn’t shown himself, why he hasn’t been around this last time.’
As our allotted hour reached its end, my electronic notebook started going crazy, I had a deep feeling in my chest that I didn’t want our time to be over, something I didn’t usually feel with my patients, “Sorry, times up, I have to go”
“Good, I was actually tired” He said with a harsh voice, from lack of talking, I smiled putting my electronic notebook back into my bag, followed by the green book.
“You can get some rest now.”
He nodded closing his eyes,
“I’ll see you next Thursday though, but if you want to talk to me at anytime, you can call me, I’ll answer you whatever time, I will leave this here” I put a yellow sticky note on a book sitting on the table beside him, he nodded with already closed eyes, I could see he was tired, since he was basically asleep already, I hoped he’d remember what I had just said.  
I smiled towards him, even though he wouldn’t notice with his eyes closed, I could feel a halo around him, something about this boy was special,  it was unclear, and unspecific, but it was easy to feel, I could see that fixing him was going to be hard, since he wasn’t easy to crack, he wasn’t ready to talk, I was afraid he wouldn’t ever be ready to talk, I was afraid of falling, I wondered if he’d ever take down his walls and let me into his life to be able to fix all the broken pieces of him, to him his heart and treat all of his pain.
♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

(A/N): Well, I hope you enjoyed the very first chapter as I enjoyed writing to you guys this book is my favorite of all of the time it's my best and I want you to feel the same -hopefully (:- small thing to let you know, I had never read The Tidings Brought to Mary, or Watch it guess what? I actually heard the whole ten chapters of the play on the radio -I'm a radio fan-, I couldn't find the original text of the play in English anywhere I'm still trying just bear with me.
I really love Violaine's character she's so innocence and so clumsy lovely, is those girls even exist? I guess yes, we are different so “I'm 80% right” (;
Have any questions, anything you guys wants to tell me please comment it below, all the love- N. Eden

 

Comment Log in or Join Tablo to comment on this chapter...
~

You might like Niav Eden's other books...