One Direction Fanfiction (On Hold)

Rewriting Destiny (Niall)

A/N: You must follow anoushka14112000. Give her a chance please!!! I love her and she just joined to be sweet. This is dedicated to her because I can do that. Love you, A!

I turn down the street corner at midnight, searching for an escape of the world of wetness. It is proving pretty difficult to find shelter in pounding rain with a sick baby in my arms. Five miles away from my broken-down car in the middle of nowhere kind of difficult, to be exact. I tuck the plush blue blanket closer to the baby's skin, rock it back and forth to try and sooth the small child, trudging on.

I know what you're thinking, and no, the kid is not mine. The shivering bundle of joy I'm holding comes from the nursery I volunteer for. Her name is Mariah, and she came to us two weeks back when her mum found a job as a medical professional. Sense that takes up most of her time, we end up caring for Mariah a lot. Yet that still doesn't explain the situation though, does it? Well, in order to understand that, I will recap this morning for you.

***

It was 10:00 am and Mariah's mum had just dropped her off. She gave no indication of when she would be back; she just said something vague about the hospital and went on her way. She seemed a bit flustered, but nothing was thought of it at the time. The nursery workers and I merely assumed her agenda was filled and she was in a rush. At about 11:00 is when things began to go downhill.

Mariah has started coughing. I automatically began searching the baby bag that was deposited with her to check for any sort of medicine. None was found. However, something of perhaps even more significance peaked out of the front pocket: a letter. It was the pointed white ridge against the blue fabric that caught my eye on my search.

What's that? I wondered.

My curious fingers gravitated toward the note.

A letter? I noticed. Well, what does it say?

I never was one to conceal their excitement or curiosity on behalf of privacy. That why it's not surprising how before I knew it, I was reading the scribbly, rushed cursive that danced before me in dark blue pen ink.

Dear Nursery Workers,

I sighed in relief, feeling less guilty about the letter knowing it was intended for my eyes after all.

I assumed you would find this eventually. I haven't time time to explain or provide valid reason, but I must tell you: I cannot keep Mariah anymore. I am terribly sorry, but the situation will not allow it. This was my only option. Please, please take care of her. Make sure she knows I love her.

Truly sorry,
Amanda Trace

All the relief I once felt evaporated. Anxiety, worry, and questions erased it.

What does she mean she 'cannot keep Mariah'? What situation will 'not allow it'? 'Only option'?

The words and phrases echoed in my head like a chorus to my insanity. I took a shuddering inhale as I leaned my back against the wall, scanning the letter again. And again. And yet another time. Until I could arrive at the only logical explanation my brain will accept.

It must be a joke.

Although I knew deep inside of me that it was not. Finally, I got up and numbly walked to one of the workers. I had no right to impose in the situation, after all. However, I couldn't conceal the pang of guilt that lodged in my stomach. Guilt for reading it, guilt for the situation, guilt for being there. I stuck it in her hand, managing a "you should read this" before slumping myself against a wall in the corner.

Oh, Mariah, I thought in agony. Mariah.

My friend Alyssa who was also a volunteer from my same school came up beside me.