Chapter 50
Harry's P.O.V: 2018, Ciudad de México, 9:43 am The idea of throwing myself under a moving train has been crossing my mind for a couple of times during the past few days, but every time it happened I was so drunk, I just thought it was a nonsense, bad taste joke my subconscious was playing with me. But waking up surrounded by trash - literally, trash - with a f*****g headache and a sour taste on my mouth, I'm actually realizing killing myself it's not such a bad idea after all. I mean, really, who would miss me? Guess my family would, of course, but I'm always away from them anyway. It would just be like I was still travelling, but for good this time. Fuck, why am I bloody naked? Jesus I can't remember a damn thing from last night. I think there was a fight. Oh, yeah. For the way my k
- Writer
