Hurt

Chapter 11

Wooow!!! I've gotten a bunch of reads! I feel really liked and accomplished :) my instagram is @_micaela_boo_ folloooooowwwww :))))

Ok here comes a chapter and you're gonna hate me for it but it was necessary I'm sorry!!! :'(

*******************************

My dreams are dark and swirling and I seem to be drowning in them. There is no focal point, just voices and darkness. I'm scared.

My dream clears suddenly, and it turns into Niall's familiar bedroom. It's quiet in the bedroom. The mini fridge in the corner has been unplugged. The beat up tv on the dresser is turned off. The stereo on the bedside table is silent. No person can be heard either. Niall's mum is off working nights at her job. And Niall..where is he?

It's eery. I have a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and in my heart. I feel like I'm going to have a heartattack.

The room is it's usual messy self, clothes strewn all over the floor, dvd and video game cases piled precariously on any flat surface available. That room had always been my place of refuge. It was as familiar as my own room. Now, it looks cold and uninviting.

Niall opens the bedroom door and comes in. He looks even worse than he did when I last saw him. His hair is pointing in all different directions, and his clothes are rumpled and his face is wet with tears. He is holding something in his hand. Looks like a can of pop to me.

He softly shuts the door, even though he's the only one at home. He walks soundlessly across the floor, and sinks into his bed, the springs creaking ever so slightly. He looks at the can of pop, and I'm confused of as to why he has tears silently rolling down his sunken cheeks while he stares at it. He's pale, paler than usual. His arms look like toothpicks and his collarbone is overly prominent.

He unscrews the lid off the pop can and shakes a few pills into his hand. Too late I realize what he is doing.

But I can't move. I can't speak.

That's no popcan.

I watch, powerless to do anything as Niall raises his hand shakily to his mouth.

I jolt awake.

It's the middle of the night, but I'm out of the bed in seconds, and I'm flying down the stairs and out the door. I don't bother to pull my shoes on, I just grab my car keys and go.

I speed through the streets, going at least 200 miles above the speed limit.

I get to Niall's house in 4 minutes.

I kick my car door shut behind me, and run up the stairs and don't bother knocking. I just barge right in. I pound up the stairs to Niall's room, and fling the door open.

The room is pitch black and eerily still. Like in my dream. The feeling in my stomach is there too. Am I really going to have a heartattack?

I hesitantly flick the lights on.

Niall is laying on his bed, his eyes closed. Sleeping. His pale skin looks like it's shining. He looks, for lack of a better word, beautiful.

I sit down on the edge of his bed and but my hand on his cold shoulder.

Cold.

Cold.

I touch his face.

Cold.

I put my hand under his nose.

No air comes out.

I grab Niall's shoulders and shake him, his head lolling around like a ragdoll's head.

I start yelling and crying all at once.

"Niall! Niall you're there you idiot! Get up, you know you can't do this! You can't just go like that, you selfish bastard! You're my brother, we were supposed to be together forever! Niall please, no Niall..."

I yell and shake him until my voice goes hoarse. Then, I just sob, and clutch his body to mine, and rock back and forth.

I don't know how long I sat there for.

I hear footsteps downstairs. Maura yelling, and then running up the stairs. She runs into the room, gasping for air. She freezes at the sight of me holding Niall, and sobbing.

Then she sinks to her knees on the floor. She seems dazed. I just cry even harder.

She's mumbling under her breath, and she's pale as a ghost. She fumbles with her phone. Probably calling mum or the ambulence.

Neither is going to help at this point.

I hold Niall even tighter, thinking of anyone that might take him away from me. No. He's not going anywhere.

The paramedics arrive. They speak to me in soothing tones and reach for Niall slowly.

I scream at them angrily and hold onto Niall desperately. I remember setting forth such a string of curses, that Niall would've been proud.

My mum comes in, showing no signs of grief or despair. She comes in and sits beside me and rubs my back.

"I'm so sorry honey."

That's all it takes.

I fall into her arms, and the reality of what has happened washes over me again, bringing on a fresh batch of sobs.

These aren't your everyday sobs. These are my-world-has-just-ended-how-will-I-go-on-how-can-I-live-with-myself-oh-God-help-me-what-have-I-done sobs. My whole body shakes, and I don't even know if the tears are coming anymore.

Niall. He isn't gone. No. He's just doing one of his pranks. He did this when we were kids. All the time! He'd pretend he was unconcious or something, and I'd always start crying and I would get scared. Then he would jump up, laughing and slapping my back, calling me stupid and gullible.

I wouldn't be the least bit mad right now if he jumped up yelling "Just kidding!" and laughing his crazy laugh.

But no. Niall is being taken away. By paramedics. Why? Because he's dead.

I get up and knock a paramedic over. They have him on a stretcher and are strapping him in. No! They aren't taking my brother anywhere!

"Get away from him! He's not dead yet! He could be alive somewhere inside!" I yell, kneeling down beside the stretcher.

"Harry..." my mum says, sounding a little choked.

"He's going to wake up, I'm telling you! He always has before! He's not dead, I should know! Niall! Niall! Wake up, show them that you're pranking us, just like always..." I say as I brush his blond hair off of his cold forehead.

My mother has kneeled beside me and is crying now.

"Harry...he's not pranking us."

Now that's when it really hit me. It teuly sunk in that he is gone. Sure I saw he was dead before when I was crying, but now I KNEW he was dead. I went limp, and fell into my mother's lap, hiding my face, not wanting to look at Niall, peacefully laying on the stretcher.

Maura is sitting in one of Niall's deskchairs, her hand over her mouth, watching us.

She get's up and sits on the ground beside me and takes me into her arms. I sob uncontrollably into her shoulder, as I have so many times before.

Why?

Because Niall, my bestfriend who was always there for me, is dead.