Downfall [Punk Niall Horan]

12

A steady, annoying beeping noise reigned me in from my subconscious slumber. Conserved light streamed into my sensitive eyes, and I clutched them shut tightly as I tried to fight it off. I wasn't quite ready to get up yet. My mind felt a bit fuzzy, but I didn't feel any pain at all which was unusual, considering. Considering that I had busted my hand open on rusty alliances, had one of my attacks, been attacked, and then almost blown up then suffocated by falling rocks. Normally when I woke up from an attack like that the next day I was sick as a dog and vomiting everywhere, but that wasn't the case now. For the most part I felt fine. A little sore, but fine nonetheless.

Finally, I decided to open my eyes completely and quit squinting them. The harsh light streamed through my pupils and I cringed under the paper thin blanket. It was almost as if it was the sun's light, but I knew better than that. There was no way I got out of this hell hole that held the man who almost got me killed. But then Niall saved me so what could I really say on the matter? Thinking about it sent splintering spikes of pain into my brain so you couldn't really blame me for not thinking much about all of that right this moment.

After adjusting to the fierce light I looked down at my body, and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. A plain white hospital gown had been put on me and bandages were wrapped around my hand and upper left thigh. I understood my hand being wrapped up, but what happened to my leg? Carefully I unraveled the seemingly fresh bandage off of my leg until it pooled behind my bare thigh. A deep bloody gash and jagged stitches met my vision, standing out starkly on my pale skin. My breathing picked up as my eyes blew wide, my fingertips starting to shake.

More beeps sounded and I realized that I was hooked up to a heart monitor, the sticky patches pressed to my chest. My heartbeat was off the charts and a violent beeping filled the room, making me lose the last of my calmness that I held. Pushing the thin white covers off of me, I stumbled off the bed and into the floor. That did not go as planned at all, and I didn't think about the consequences that would happen if I threw myself off a bed with a freshly wounded leg.

Burning coursed through my entire leg and I hissed at the mind numbing pain. How wonderful it was to feel absolutely nothing at all, then feel everything in the world all at once in a matter of seconds. Blood started to seep through the black stitches and the alarm went off more, bouncing of the walls of the room and my mind. The alarms sounded like they were taunting me so I ripped the damned patches off my chest and threw them to the floor, ignoring the slight sting they left in their wake. All this blood was making me nauseous, the copper smell tinging my senses. My hands fell onto my thigh trying to stop the blood, but it kept bleeding profusely. In the moment of complete and utter panic I lost all reason on what would actually help me. All that did was dye my hands a sickly red color. "Oh god," I whispered, staring at my hands.

It was like that night behind the club in that abandoned, dark alleyway all over again. I was sucked right back into that horrible night as I stared at my own blood covering my hands yet again. This couldn't happen to me again, I couldn't go through this again. I wanted to die right now rather than bare another moment in this dehabilitating state. My legs curled up underneath me as I formed myself into a scared, pitiful excuse of a ball. "Make it stop!" I cried, grabbing onto my ears. The despicable mans voice taunted me in my mind, letting me know of all the other horrible things he would have done to me if he wasn't shot.

"Jesus Christ, Tylie! Damnit!" Niall screamed, rushing through the open door in the corner. Those blue eyes were wild with fury as he tried to carefully loop his arms around my crippled body. More pain shot through my leg, along with the rest of my body, as he carried me towards an other opening in the room. As careful as he could, Niall sat me down on the surprisingly clean toilet. Tears streamed down my face. "He won't leave me alone," I whimpered, dragging my bandaged hand across my eyes.