Niall

~6~

~Madeline Payne~

   The clock ticks with each and every second. A little fun fact that you're told often is that every second, a person dies and another is born. With this, you begin to wonder who the people are that lost their lives and who was granted with a little miracle. I wonder more about the deaths because the human race multiplies. I wonder if I know any of the people who die, but I constantly tell myself that I don't.

   I carefully listen to each tick, wondering if they are always identical. I feel arms wrap around me from behind, but I stay focused on the noise.

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

   "Babe, what are you doing? The bell rang," Zayn's soft voice enters my ears, sending chills down my spine. I shake it off, grabbing my book, Girl, Stolen. I stand, placing my left hand into Zayn's right one, and walk out of the class.

   I reach my locker and place my book in it, taking my jacket out. I put it on.

   "Let's go to that party Louis is throwing," Zayn states. I shake my head. "We're going," he states seriously.

   "I can't."

   Zayn huffs, eyeing the people staring. His eyes then hit me again.

   "We're going," he states forcefully, grabbing my hand. I reluctantly let him take it.

   I slowly shake my head and say, "I've got to finish my report for Mr. B." Zayn squeezes my hand in anger.

   "Madeline," he growls, "You're being inconsiderate. I want to go to the party and you're concerned about yourself. You're not supposed to be selfish." There are so many things I would like to say to him, but Liam would be mad. He wants Zayn and I together, and so do my parents.

   "You're right," I give in, looking down at my feet. "I'm sorry, Zayn." He wraps an arm around me and leans in, kissing me.

   "You should be. Remember this for the future," he whispers into my ear. I nod, watching the onlookers with eyes directly on me. I become self-conscious which is strange to me. I'm popular, used to attention. I hate it. I hate popularity. It puts so much pressure on a person. You know people look up to you. They want to be you.

   When Zayn and I get into his car, I take my heels off and rub my aching feet.

   "Where is this party anyway?" I ask, setting my shoes onto the floor. I pop my back and turn to Zayn who begins to drive.

  "You know that abandoned warehouse by the lake?" I think about it for a moment, then nod. "It's there."

   I bite my lip. "Isn't that illegal?" Zayn's laugh booms.

   He replies as if I was joking, "Of course it is." My face falls. "Come on. Live a little." I play with my fingers and lick my lips.

   "What if we get caught?" Zayn's expression hardens and he huffs in annoyance.

   "No one ever gets caught at these things. Just trust me." I nod, still not agreeing with this party.

   Zayn drives without another word. The windows of the warehouse are boarded up. The front door is nailed close with two by fours. Waves lap against rocks in the distance and the thumps of music makes its way through the cracks of the walls.

   "Are you sure about this?" I ask, nervously. Zayn ignores me, grabbing my hand. He pulls me to the back of the building. A window is broken allowing me to see inside. People are dancing, moving their bodies to the beat of the music. I spot a red solo cup in most of their hands.

   "Through here," Zayn directs, climbing through a hole where the boards were pulled apart. I hesitate to follow, just thinking. I hear someone greet Zayn. I bend down and enter.

   I look around for Zayn, spotting him at a makeshift bar. Wooden crates are pushed together and different types of bottles of alcohol sit on top of it. Zayn comes toward me with two cups in his hands.

  "Here," he states, offering me one.

   I shake my head. "I don't think I should." Zayn lets out an angry breath, shaking his head.

   "Have some fun!" Fun? Is this what he thinks fun is? Fun is a picnic at the park or getting ice cream at Dairy Queen. Fun is a water balloon fight on a hot day, or a bonfire on a chilly one, not an illegal teen party with underage drinkers.

   "Okay," I state, not wanting to argue any further. I slowly put the cup up to my lips. I then tip the cup just enough for a few drops of the liquid to run into my mouth. It hits my tongue and I have to cringe slightly to keeps myself from spitting it back out. The alcohol burns the back of my throat as I swallow. I look up at Zayn and fake a smile.

   "That'a girl!" He exclaims, patting my shoulder. "Hey, I'm going to meet up with Louis and your brother." I nod. He walks away. I sigh, looking around for people I would consider talking to. I see no one with a decent personality that isn't drunk or in the middle of a make out session. I let the music distract me.

   After a couple boring minutes, I notice someone stand before me. His hair is messy, wavy, and falls down a little about his shoulders. He has green eyes that stick out. Harry Styles. Harry wears a light gray t-shirt and black skinny jeans.

   "Hi Maddy," he greets. I smile, wondering why he is talking to me. Harry's isn't exactly popular, and I wouldn't say he ever will be.

   "Hey," I say in a sigh.

   Harry motions to the drink in my hand. "I didn't pin you as the drinking type."

   I shake my head and reply, "I'm not." I turn the cup at a slight angle showing him the amount of alcohol. "My boyfriend insisted." The word boyfriend comes past my lips a little too harshly.

    "Zayn?" He questions as if he didn't already know. I nod. "I don't think he's right for you." I bite my lip trying to hold myself back from agreeing. I shrug.

    "I love him." I struggle to say this. Do I really love Zayn, or am I in a relationship with him to satisfy Liam and my parents? Harry seems to stifle a laugh. "Um, I should probably find Zayn." I just wanted to get out fm this awkward conversation.

    "Alright. I'll see you around," Harry states, obviously annoyed. I don't see a reason though. It's my life and has nothing to do with Harry. He hasn't been the same for years since his best friend went missing. Actually, his socialization with me is surprising. Harry doesn't talk often anymore. His cheekiness is gone and he seems more like a robot, dedicated to a task.

   The last day Niall was seen was the day I spoke to him. It was a short conversation about my relationship with Zayn. At the time, I was confused, confused on the fact that I didn't know if I was single or not.

   Niall Horan hasn't been seen since that day, nor has his mother. I've always known something was strange about that family. Did they run away, or did something worse, much worse happen?
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Yay! Longer chapter! I really enjoy writing this! I hope you like reading this!

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What do you think happened to Niall?

Love y'all!
Maddy