Niall Gone Mad?! 1D Imagine/Fanfic

Part Twenty-Three!

A/N: Ello (: Well, I promised an update on Sunday (today) so here it is!

By the way, I said Sunday in the last chapter... and you guys kept asking when I would update xD read the A/N section maybe? (;

haha anyways, enjoy x Don't forget to leave a comment and a like(:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Niall’s POV:

            “Let me out of here!”  I yell endlessly, banging on the hard steel door.  “This wasn’t part of the deal!”  My hoarse voice gives out on the last word, cracking like it did 7 years ago through puberty.  I give up on yelling and scuttle over to my concrete ‘bed’.  I entangle myself in the small wool blanket they provided for me; I guess that’s the least they could do considering this place is a fucking prison cell, literally.

            All that surrounds me are four white, disintegrating solid walls that must be a few decades old.  There’s a small steel toilet in the corner with a tiny sink above it.  Above the sink on the wall, there’s a little mirror that reflects the door on the other wall.  There’s a small window above my bed that leads out to show just a plain brick wall on the outside of wherever I’m trapped.

            They left me in here with no social interaction at all, besides a “food’s here Niall” from some guy that slides a tray of shitty food under my door. 

            It gives me plenty of time to think.  Too much time if you ask me.

            I leaned against the walls and closed my eyes, letting all of my thoughts take over.

            I even lied in the letter.  I couldn’t even tell the whole truth to them, though I technically had to write my suicide letter. I told my perfect girlfriend to go be happy with Harry.  Harry…  Someone, I knew he would end up with her ever since that meet and greet.  Harry’s always been the one to get the girl I want.  He knows how to have the perfect smile, comfort someone about anything... and I mean, he doesn’t really sleep around, except if he gets really drunk… Then we have to get him out of that stage before he does anything he regrets.  But he probably has her now, he gets to sleep next to her, comfort her, wipe away her tears, hear her beautiful voice… look into her beautiful eyes, kiss her sweet lips, and even… gets to tell her he loves her.

            Maybe one day I can escape from here... find out if she’s still at Louis and Harry’s flat.  Apologize about everything, explain the entire situation and what management did.  I’d have to do something huge to make up for all the pain I put her through... There’s no telling how she’ll feel if I manage to find her and hug her.  She’s think I’m dead.  My girlfri-, ex-girlfriend, thinks I’m fucking dead.  Everyone in this world does.  Who knows how the rest of the band feels?  I’m just another ‘dead soul’ now...

            I wonder what the lads are doing... if they’ve recorded anything without me.  If they’re still One Direction, if they’re still even a band or hang out like we used to.  I wonder if the fans still mob them to question about me, or about anything, like just by being Zayn Malik, Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles, or Liam Payne.  Maybe they interact more with the fans on Twitter than we used to be able to.

            I wonder if they’re even okay...

            Everything became too much to think about; everything is just another arrow through my heart as the tears started to drip down my cheeks.  Opening my eyes, I sit up and stretch my legs, groaning at the muscles tugging a bit farther than they were supposed to.  Standing up, i begin wandering around the small cell, yet again, for the third time today.  The decaying white walls looked the same as they did thirty minutes ago.  The concrete floor is still a dull grey that hurts my bare feet to walk on.