Downfall [Punk Niall Horan]

28

My head swam in dizzy, never ending circles as hordes of Benders poured through the rusted, charred metal doors that Niall had pulled open. My stomach flipped violently in my abdomen, realizing I was face to face with the creatures yet again today.

The smell of the burning building and the rotten, putrid waves rolling off the creatures was enough to make me hurl. Turning on my heels, I couldn't keep the bile rising in my throat down any longer. Lurching and coughing violently, I emptied my stomach in the corner.

Tears streamed down the side of my face, tears that I wasn't aware of, and dropped into the carnage below. I heaved again, clutching my stomach weakly with my limp hand. All of my vision was completely diminished by the squeezing of my eyelids. Gunshots resonated throughout the tarnished room, making me heave more. Heavy thuds hit the ground through the pounding in my ears. Not long ago, I was the one firing those shots killing humans.

You're a murderer.

I heaved again, but nothing came out this time but spit. My body was already lacking the nutrients I needed from weeks of hardly eating anything. Everything in me craved a drop of water because I was on the edge of dehydration.

Swallowing harshly, I realized my throat was bone dry and that the awful smell of stomach acids was resting on my tongue. Dragging a hand across my dirty mouth, I stood up while my world tilted ever so slightly. Ash and grime coated my hand, and there was a slight metallic taste from where I held the gun earlier.

I sunk down on the floor not caring whether or not it was completely obliterated with trash and rubble. A crumpled body filled my vision without my consent, eyes latching onto it.

Black spread out from underneath it's body and it's eyes rolled to the back of its head. Tingles of uneasiness shot through my brain again, and I was horrified as the body before me flickered and morphed into another face. One that I cared about very much, and one that I saw only minutes before.

Harry.

Tears stung the back of my eyes while I tried to hold in my sobs, fighting to pull my solid gaze away from my brother. Harry slowly rolled over and pushed himself off the floor, ash sticking to his strained arms. Swiftly he pulled himself over to me and sat down with a lost look on his face. It was like old times when we would just sit and talk.

The difference was that now Harry was dead and gone while I was still stuck here.

Even though I tried to rip my eyes from my brother, they flickered down to the blood blossoming on his white t shirt. A small hole was visible through the material, marking where he had been shot in some other time. I gripped my fists tightly together and squeezed my eyes shut, the overbearing pain pressing down on my muddled mind.

Reopening them, I found that his shoes had caught on fire. Sobs choked my throat and I shook my head exasperatedly, finding myself being not able to look away from the ghastly apparition.

This wasn't real. It's not real.

A feather light touch shook my eyes open, and I saw Harry staring at the gun that I had placed in my hand before Niall opened the door. Subconsciously, my eyes also drifted towards it, then back to Harry's beautiful green ones.

"You did this," Harry spoke dejectedly, voice gravely and knowing how it always used to be. Vigorously I shook my head, but that didn't stop the tears from making streaks down my grimy cheeks, "No, Harry. No I didn't!" I whispered back brokenly.