Safe

Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Hours pass and when I wake up I feel groggy, still engulfed in my cocoon of blankets. The trapped body heat is just a bit too much, so I kick my feet around a little and stick them out of the blankets and off the end of the bed. I wait for a minute to see if anyone is still in the room with me. When nothing moves and nobody says anything, I blindly search underneath the blanket for the edge of it and just barely poke my head out; just enough to survey the room. It is empty. The light from the window stings at first but my eyes quickly adjust. 

I stare blankly towards the bathroom, not quite staring into the bathroom, just staring at it. Nothing is going through my mind. I don't feel anything. The world doesn't even feel like a real place anymore. At least my world doesn't. It doesn't seem real that everything that has happened to me in the past six months has. It doesn't seem real that Corey put me in the hospital then killed himself; it doesn't seem real that I ended up getting in a car accident that almost killed myself along wtih my best friend and my boyfriend; it doesn't seem real that this is my first day in my bed in two months; it doesn't seem real that my relationship with Niall has been more of a rollarcoaster than I ever expected it to.

When I met Niall, he promised that I'd be safe with him. He promised that he wouldn't hurt me, and that I could trust him. But lately, I don't feel safe with him. Not with Anabelle around. When she's around, he's not my Niall.. he's different. He's the Niall that she knew. And it's exhausting flipping back and forth between Anabelle Niall and Kat Niall. If he cared about me at all, wouldn't he stop seeing her? Wouldn't he stop  hurting me? If Corey was still alive and I was bringing him around all the time, I bet Niall would have something to say about it.

My mind flashes to the day when I found out Corey was dead. Officer Poterek never followed up with me about that. I guess because I was in a pretty traumatic car accident and put in a coma. Yeah, that would probably do it. I wonder what his funeral was like. Did anyone bring him flowers? Did people cry? Was it morbid, or was it full of people who loved him? Where did the bury him? I'll bet the ceremony was beautiful; his mom is very tasteful, unlike her son. I should call her. See how she's doing. Bad idea, my subconscious scolds. But I think I'll call her anyway. It's the least I can do.

I sit up in the bed, the blankets still wrapped around me, and the fluffy fabric is making me too warm. I shimmy out of comforters and let them fall to the floor. My throat is dry and my stomach grumbles. I realize I haven't eaten in over 24 hours. The clock says 4:18 pm.

I pad across the floor to the door and throw it open carelessly, shuffling out into the living room. Niall sits perched on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, slouched over a bit watching the TV. He sits up straight when I come out of my room and his feet come off the table. He almost stands up, but watches as I walk past without saying anything, and slouches back down into the couch in defeat. As I walk into the kitchen I peek over my shoulder at him and see him run a hand through his hair, take a deep breath, and stand up. I quickly turn around and act like I wasn't staring at him.

"Hey," he says and I hear him walk a little closer.

"Hey," I state without another word. I open up the cupboard and grab a tall glass. I open the fridge and pull out a pitcher of iced tea that Izzie must have made. Oh. Izzie. I wonder how she's doing.

I turn around and lean against the counter, sipping my iced tea. Niall's eyes shift nervously around the room and he shifts weight about three different times before finally speaking.

"So... you slept with Lou?" He stuffs his hands in his jean pockets and stares at the ground instead of at me, which irritates me. Of all the things he could have said, that's the one he chooses?