Diana - Zayn Malik

Chapter Four

Natalie's POV:

        Muffled voices filled my ears. Whose there!? I tried to speak out, but it didn't work. What the heck? I tried to frown. Nothing worked. What. The. Actual. Hell? I gasped, Am I dead?! I began worrying in fear. Oh my god... I'm seriously dead. Literally. Dead. My biggest fear has actually come true. I tried to cry... or move. Nothing happened. My eyes slowly began to open, the light gleamed in my eyes.

       "Now let me see how fit she is." A deep, raspy voice muttered. Eagerness was hinted in his voice.

       My eyes widened even though it hurt. Who were these people!? I'm. Going. To. Die. Their going to rape me. I told myself.

      "I don't have tim-"

       "Where am I?!"  I blurted out quickly, without the words processing in my mind. I interrupted whoever was speaking. My voice came out in a low whisper. I was so afraid to even speak. I gasped as I spoke, throwing my hand over my hand over my mouth. My lip quivered, my eyes went watery, staring at the five boys.

       "Zayn...?" The blonde one spoke. A thick Irish accent as he spoke.

       "Are you alright?" The one with black hair asked. His voice was so soft, like an angel's. I remembered him from the alley. His caramel eyes... lazy day attire... Zayn...

       "Love?" He brang me back to reality.

       I slowly nodded, but pain shot through me. I shut my eyes in pain, falling back. I threw my hand over my mouth, and jumped up from the bed. I looked around quickly, and ran towards the garbage bin. A burp escaped my mouth, fluids along with it. I shut my eyes, in pain. A groan escaped from my lips. Why was this happening to me?

      "Guys, help me take her to the restroom!" Zayn said loudly, he was serious. He ran towards me, slowly putting his right hand on my back. The curly haired boy rushed over, and helped pick me up. The Irish one grabbed the garbage bin along, carrying it with me.

       I shut my eyes tightly. What was going on with me..? And why where they helping me?