Downfall [Punk Niall Horan]

17

Two weeks.

That's how long it had been since I've talked to anyone or even left Niall's room for that matter. Food was brought to me by Luke, Ashton, Niall, and even Calum as they all begged for me to say something. Anything.

But Luke never showed up even though he was the one I wanted to see the most.

Three times I had left to take a short shower just to come back and wallow in darkness again, slowly losing my mind completely. Niall had gotten angry at me when I refused to speak to him and stared blankly past him at the dirty wall, so he threw the chair and it shattered against the wall.

I didn't even flinch.

I was absolutely disgusted with myself, with my whole family and our existence. People had died because of me, because of my father. No matter as much as I tried to pin everything on my father, I couldn't. This was just as much my fault as was his because I should have noticed that something was terribly wrong.

And the fact that Niall would willingly throw me to the wolves with barely a moments pause made me want to cry even more, knowing that he didn't actually care for me even a little bit after all. Whatever we had, whatever I thought we had, I thought it was special bond and we could help each other. But apparently it was not anything that I thought it was.

Niall didn't care about me like I thought he might had, he didn't care about the broken girl swimming in her own guilt. Niall didn't care about me the way I cared about him, it was as simple as that. In my break from society and living that's the first thing I figured out, that Niall and I were never friends in the first place.

The only time I had been in the main room, coaxed out by Ashton, I saw him. My father. He had tried to persuade everyone that the missiles were shot by Zaios, that the city was being attacked by the underground gang. The city completely went into a downward spiral, not even giving a passing moment to the innocent people taken down by the darkness of this place.

After I looked on at him for a minute, I couldn't take it anymore without wanting to throw up, and I ran back to the comfort of Niall's room and the hurricane of my mind.

Ashton had told me new people came in after the bombs, saying that they just did not trust the president anymore. People were evacuating the city, and some were even joining the army to fight against the gang. Needless to say the city was in chaos, picking itself apart with vile secrets.

All this had me wondering if the city was ever even okay in the first place. Nothing was how it was before all the lies, I got that just from the video of people fighting in the street and from the burnt, destroyed images of the city. It was almost like I could taste the fire and fighting even from deep under the city.

My mind was torn to shreds by guilt and frustration, and I did not quite feel human any more. I felt like a baby fish, constantly getting swept in and out by huge waves that knocked me into an endless tumble until I couldn't see straight anymore. Nothing seemed real anymore, more like a sick fantasy. This wasn't the place I grew up, and these weren't the people I knew.

I wasn't me anymore.

Shivers rolled through me as the door opened for what felt like the millionth time in these weeks. Angry red splotches were noticeably on my cheeks, and my eyes were puffy from constant crying these past two weeks. Sticky streams streaked my face, making where the tears had fell down my face present.

My eyes flitted up to meet dark blue ones, and I audibly gasped. It was the first noise I had made in weeks, and it instantly made my throat screech in pain.  It was Luke. He hadn't spoken to me since his fight with Niall or hardly even looked my way for that matter. Which had almost been a month ago come to think of it, and in that time so many things had changed drastically.