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(14) The Trail Of Roses

(14) Trail Of Roses

I sat on the couch, my elbow planted on the armrest as my head rested on my palm. The thumb of my other hand twirled on my tummy through the fabric of the black shirt I wore. I sighed, boredom pinching my skin. Flashes of scenes appeared on the screen, but my mind didn't register them, although my glazed eyes were on the telly.

It was eight at night, and I still haven't had dinner. Right after lunch earlier, Liam had disappeared, telling me that he had something to do. And NOT to have dinner without him. So I didn't. And it sucked. Acid burned and gurgled in my stomach, a telltale sign that I hadn't consumed anything in approximately three hours.

Yay for Liam! Not. What's he doing, anyway? It's taking an awful lot of time. I hadn't seen much of him ever since this morning, ever since that monumental 'yeah'.

Our date.

The thought made butterflies wrestle with the acid burning in my stomach, and it made a light skitter of shivers run down my spine. My palms grew a bit sweaty. I still can't believe I was going on a date with THE Liam Payne. The one who once upon a time tore my Algebra asignment in two. Who had spilled chocolate Ice Cream on my new white shirt. Who had tripped me in front of the whole class. It was absurd, and it sent my brain into a nervous frenzy.

It felt crazy to be worrying about this, but what do I do on that date? I didn't want to look awkward. I wanted, for some reason, to impress Liam. I didn't even want to deny that fact anymore. It was real and it was there and I had to face it. I wanted to be good enough for him. Because really, that negative voice in my head kept whispering I wasn't worth an ounce of his breath. He was perfect--the looks, the brains, the money, and what was I? Our house was tiny and even decaying at some parts. There was nothing I could be proud of, except maybe for my imperfect-but-happy family.

But still, that's like a strand of hair compared to Liam's perfection.

I heard a knock at the door, and my head immediately perked up to it. I furrowed my brows. Liam, I think. But why would he knock? He had a key if he'd locked himself out. My skin prickled when a thought came across my mind. A zombie?

Okay, I'm being absurd. It's my stupid imaginary phobia acting up again. I was afraid of many things, even of things that seem highly unlikely. When I was younger, I got scared a lot, nightmares visited me periodically, and no one had been there to help me. Save me. My parents had always been fighting then. And Greg was always with his friends. So I was always either on the corner, with my knees against my chest, or under the blanket, shivering with fright. But either way crying.

I had been hopeless.

The memories clawed at my brain, releasing dark thoughts as I stared at the door. The back of my neck stiffened. My breathing grew erratic. I felt like a five-year-old all over again. Hopeless.

Should I--? No. Zombies aren't real, Niall. Get over it. You've proven to yourself a thousand times before that they aren't.

I couldn't believe myself if I'd tried. My fear seemed so childish, but it felt so real to me. I felt like a hopeless weakling trapped between a dead end and my soon-to-be murderer as I squished myself against the arm rest.

It all felt real.

Even though it wasn't.

I gulped. I should just stay here. Liam will save me. But maybe-- I shook my head. No, Niall, you idiotic scaredy-cat. Liam hadn't already been eaten by one. He's only taking too long because . . .

Shit. I stood up, feeling a strand of courage push through me. I had to save Liam. Because maybe that's why he's taking too long. Maybe he'd been trapped by zombies. Somewhere. And he needed me to save him. I grabbed my crutch and inched to the door. My good foot felt like stone as I dragged myself there. When I finally stood in front of the rectangular wood, I pulled in a shaky breath.