Fine Lines and Second Chances (a Niall Horan fan-fic)

Chapter 23 - Flash Back

*AtariLynn's POV*

I woke up due to a headache from the underworld. I got up from the empty bed and went to my bathroom. I had thankfully changed into pajamas last night. I opened the cabinet next to the mirror and took out the pain pills. I poured out two, then I decided I needed more so I poured out three more. I swallowed them easily and went back to my room. I pulled the curtains over my window and turned my AC to 60 degrees. I layed on the floor and stared at the ceiling. This is how I usually get rid of my headaches. I closed my eyes and tried to rest my mind. I was almost asleep when I heard a soft knock on my door. I slowly lifted myself off the floor. I walked to the door and opened it to find an upset Niall.

"Well you look like crap," I said jokingly.

"Have you looked in the mirror lately?" he said not so jokingly.

"....I'm going to lay back down," I said shutting the door in his face and locking it.

I didn't have the patience to deal with angry people. I layed back in my previous spot and drifted into a horrid sleep. It was filled with flash backs from a past I wanted to escape and forget. In my restless state I had managed to hit my head on my bed. It was bleeding nicely but I didn't wake from my torturous nightmare.

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It was the midnight before my Dad's, twin's, and brother's funeral. I had already died inside. My mom was downstairs screaming at everything. I was quietly sitting on my bed staring out the window. I had cried non-stop since that phone call but now, I was out of tears and any other emotion. I heard my mom breaking a few things. I slowly walked out of my room and down to the living room to see if she was ok. As soon as I got in the room, she hit my face and yelled at me "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!! YOU DID THIS!! YOU WERE THE BIGGEST MISTAKE AND IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU, THEY WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!!" I just stood there and stared at her. I could have said many things but I didn't. She got mad at me for staring and yelled more. She stormed out of the house yelling and waking up the neighboors. I guess some of them decided to call the police because in a few minutes, they were at my doorstep. Jim was the one who came inside and checked to see if I was ok. Of course he saw blood and bruises and scratches on my face from where I had been hit by whatever my mom had had in her hand. He took me outside where a crowd had formed and walked me to his car. I saw a cute, curly haired boy standing in the crowd. He gave me a weak smile and I got in the car. My mom had seen Jim taking me and was yelling and banging on the window but I couldn't understand her. Jim turned around and told me that it would be ok but I knew better than to believe him. I knew that I would be back here and she would take out her anger on me and that nothing would be ok ever again. The ride to the police station was filled with Jim asking questions and me just staring out at the scenes passing by. When we arrived, I was taken to the back to get stitched up. Once I had been completely checked out and fixed, Jim took me to the break room and got me a water bottle and tried to get me to eat, which didn't happen. I looked down at my arms and saw that they had found my nice fresh cuts and had stitched them too. I was tempted to take them out but I decided to do it later. I sat in the break room with Jim for a while. He was asking questiions which I answered with the simplest answers. I wasn't in the mood to talk. When he was done asking me things, he reluctantly took me home. When we got into the car he asked if I liked music. I smiled for the first time since that call early that day. He turned the radio on and it happened to be my favorite station. The ride back was fast and when we got there I quickly hopped out and ran to my door. I did mine and my dad's secret knock that we always did. I kinda was hoping that he would open it and hug me but he didn't. It stayed closed and I sat down and just cried. I guess I had found a few more tears to shed after all. I couldn't believe that my daddy was gone and I felt wrong without my twin. We were inserperable and it hurt to not have either of my brothers. I got up after a few minutes and went to where my window was. I climbed up the tree there and slipped into my room. My door stayed closed and locked and that was a blessing. My mom was most likely asleep but I don't think I could sleep. I sat down on my bed and tore out the stitches that had been sewed into my skin. It was nice to feel the blood slipping down my arm again. I went to my closet and chose the dress that Dad had liked best on me and pulled it over my head. I looked in the mirror and was sad. It didn't look like it used to because I had lost so much weight from not eating. I brushed out the tangles from my curly hair. I put on my nicest shoes and my neclace that matched the one that Aly was wearing. Aly never took hers off. We had gotten them on our 5th birthday from our brother Daniel. They were little diamond hearts on silver chains. I looked myself over one last time and settled for how I looked. I wiped the dried blood from my arms and face, and took the bandages, that were on the scratches, off. I had decided that I was going to the graveyard by myself and I wanted to walk. I got the boquets of flowers and quietly headed out the door. As I walked by one of the houses, the curly haired boy was sitting on the sidewalk. I didn't want to be arouond anybody so I crossed to the other side hoping he wouldn't see me. There weren't many street lamps along the road but the ones that were there were dim. The sky was covered in clouds and there was no moon, so I was basically invisible. I guess that my motion had caught his eye because he came up to me. "I'm sorry for what happened with your mom. You didn't do anything to deserve that," he said while giving me a hug and then left. I just acted like nothing had happened and continued to the graveyard. I sat by the three holes in the ground and talked. I talked like they were there and they could hear me. I did this until the people got there with the caskets. I got out of their way and watched as my dad, Aly, and James were taken out of the back of the herses and set on the stands. It was horrible seeing them trapped in boxes. None of them deserved to die. They were the three that believed in "God" but I don't see why. They didn't do anything wrong but yet He kills them. I just hope that they are in the palce they called Heaven. I didn't want them hurting anymore than they already had. After the people were done placing the coffins, I walked up to them and gently touched each one as I said my final "I love yous" and my final goodbyes. I layed the right boquets of flowers on the right coffins and sat in the chairs that were being put out for the ceremony. I sat there for a good 4 hours before anyone showed up. It took about another hour for everyone to show up. The ceremony was a blur, and I didn't pay that much attention. Afterwards, a lot of people I didn't know where coming up to me and giving their condolences and pitying looks. It pissed me off because they didn't know anything. I saw the curly haired boy and he mouthed "I'm sorry" to me but I didn't believe him. I didn't believe anyone anymore. I watched as my family was lowered into the ground and the dirt put over them. I stood there almost all day just looking. The cool breeze whipping my hair about my face and torso. My face was emotionless and my mind was thoughtless. I was basically just a shell. At around sunset, I decided to go home and let the depression take over again. I also had other issues, but they blended in with the depression so I didn't notice them that much. I climbed into my bed without changing clothes or getting ready for bed. I was ready to just fade away and be forgotten. I layed in bed for at least a month. I didn't eat, drink, sleep, move, talk, or show emotion. I finally got tired of laying so I got up and put on some skinny jeans and one of Aly's shirts. I put on Jame's favorite jacket and Dad's bracelet. I looked in the mirror and saw that I had lost even more weight. I was pretty tho. My scars showing from underneath the sleeves, my thin pale skin contrasting my dark thick hair perfectly, and my eyes popping in the absense of color in my clothes and body. I was 5'10 and my hair came down to the top of my pants. I used to weigh around 120 then when I became depressed went down to 100. I walked into my bathroom and weighed and now I weighed at a meer 89 pounds. I was a skeleton. I liked this look and decided to keep it. I put my gray high-top converse on and went down stairs. My mom was in the kitchen downing a bottle of vodka. I guess that I hadn't been quiet coming down the stairs because she wheeled around and stalked over to me. I was a litlle taller than her but her drunken fury overpowered the difference. She held the now empty glass bottle over her head and brought it down on my temple, dropping me to the floor, bleeding profusely. She started screaming at me making my head hurt worse, not mentioning the fact that there was vodka and glass in my head. I was discombobulated and confused. My vision was blurred and the best part was that I stopped feel anyhting. I smiled at this which my mom, Heather, saw and got even madder. She beat me until I blacked out. That was the first time, and it became a daily thing and I loved each one more than the last. I became sick mentally after a while. I laughed at everything and didn't feel any pain and it was great. It was like the best high that just kept going, no crash. I stayed in that house for a few years too many without leaving once after my family died. The only time I got out was when Heater died.

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My life had been turned upside down. It has crashed and is slowly burning. Now I just have to wait till the ashes settle and I'll be out of misery. I had lost a lot of blood by this point. No one could get in because my door was locked and so there was a good chance that I was going to die and I was ok with that.

*Niall's POV*

What.the.heck.did.i.do? I sinned so bad and then I was mad at her. She did nothing. It was me. I'm too screwed up. Why? Oh my gosh, I'm in so much trouble. I should apologize. I was thinking too fast and too many thoughts. I had stormed into the cafeteria when she had shut and locked the door. I walked up to her room and tried to get in but the stinking door was still locked and she wasn't answering. I panicked and did the only things I knew how to do. I called the staff for an emergency and then I got down on my knees and prayed the most heart wrenching prayer that I had ever said in my life.