Treacherous

Chapter Sixteen

*~*~* Niall's POV *~*~*

Scared out of my mind, I stand up and walk over to Amie. Tears pour relentlessly down my cheeks, but I don't let my hands shake as I gingerly touch Amie's arm, judging her reaction. She jumps and pulls away as my cold skin comes into contact with her arm, but she doesn't scream.

"Look, Amie. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. I know everything is confusing right now, but if you let me, I will help you." My voice still trembles despite my desperate attempts to stop it.

"How do you know my name? And what were those screams earlier?" Her voice stays calm and collected somehow, regardless of the terror I know she's feeling right now. Why can't I be as strong as her?

"Um, I'm a really good friend of yours. My name is Niall. And that was the television. I was watching a scary movie and you... fell asleep." I decide not to tell her about our real relations and keep the story simple.

"Why am I here?" she asks slowly, processing this new information into her freshly deleted mind.

"This is your house. I, um, just came over to hang out for a bit."

"Why can't I see?" Her hands again cover her eyes, checking again to see if her statement was correct. On finding that it was, a shuddering breath passes through her chapped lips. I need to get her to drink more...

Suddenly remembering that she asked me a question, I answer her. "You're blind." I decide to keep my answers sort of short and simple so I don't overload her fragile mind.

"Oh." Am expression of shock takes over her soft features as she drags her hands down the side of her face. "You'd think I'd remember that..."

"One would think..." I whisper softly. She doesn't react to that, so I'm guessing she didn't hear me. That or she just chose to ignore it.

"So, Niall. Tell me then, why did I forget? And how do I know I can trust you? You could be lying and I could be in some dungeon where you torture girls like me until they're begging for mercy. How do I know you're not lying?" Her voice takes on a suspicious tone. As if she's voicing out her thoughts as she's speaking them.

"You can't," I say. "Trust me, I mean. But I promise I'm not going to torture you or anything. And as for you not remembering... That's a long story." It hurts to say that she can't trust me, because I know she shouldn't. It seems like every time she goes into this state it's someone's sick way of showing me how she should act around me. But it makes me appreciate her love for me even more.

"Of course it is." She sighs, wringing her hands to try and calm her nerves that are obviously jumping out of her skin. "I-I do trust you, though."

That statement causes me to perk up and listen to her next words very carefully. "I don't know what it is, but something is telling me to trust you. It sounds absurd, but I think I'm going to trust whoever it is that's telling me. You seem like a very nice person."

"It's not absurd at all. Far from it, actually. And I think I'm pretty kind. I like to think of myself that way, at least." She laughs nervously at my playful tone, but although I'm playful on the outside, on the inside I'm filled with dread that she doesn't remember me after her little journey out of this world.

 "I'm going to take your hand now..." I tell her. She nods and holds her hand out to me. Gently, I take it and pull her up. Her knees are still wobbly, so I go ahead and wrap my arm around her shoulder to steady her. I would just pick her up and carry her if it wouldn't be so awkward. But alas, it would be fairly awkward. 

She tenses under my touch and I move to pull away, but she grabs my arm and keeps it where it is.

"Um, I don't want to fall. I'm really tired." Part of me thinks that she's telling the truth, but the other half is telling me that she just likes my touch. Hope sparks within me at the thought.