I Think I've Been Kidnapped

Chapter 7

This'll be really short so I'm sorry. :( warning: may contain triggering content.

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***Mia's P.O.V.***

"Zayn, can I pretty please have the remote," I begged sweetly as Zayn stared straight ahead at the tv.

A smile spread across his lips as he brought his arm back, making it look like he was going to toss the remote. instead he laughed at my giddy reaction. "Nope," he answered with a smirk.

I narrowed my eyes at him and gave an exasperated sigh before getting up. I helped them write an entire song today, the least he could do was let me have the tv. I should've listened to Niall about the tv thing. So, I grabbed my key card to Niall's room from the side table and made my way out of my room and towards his. I could faintly hear the tv blaring inside of the room and I knocked loudly just to give him a warning: incase he was changing or something. There was no reply so I slipped the card in, pushing open the door to see no one inside. That was odd, why would the tv be turned all the way up if no one was there?

As I walked over to the remote that looked to have been carelessly dropped to the floor, I heard a heart wrenching noise. Heavy sobs were emanating from the bathroom. I couldn't tell whose they were but it didn't matter: either way I wanted to know which boy it was and why they were crying. I quickly headed to the bathroom and swung the door open, scaring the living day lights out of the person sitting on the bathroom door. I gasped at the scene in front of me when I actually was able to process it. Niall with an opened pill bottle in his hands, his face littered with tears. "What the hell, Niall!" I exclaimed in surprise. I soon regretted it when he started to cry even louder.

"I-I have to do t-this," he stumbled out between sobs.

I got down on my hands and knees so that I was in front of him and tried to look him in the eyes, but he turned away from me. "No you don't, just give me the bottle," I commanded sadly.

He shook his head, clutching the bottle to his chest as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. The sad reality was that it was the key to his death. I had dealt with this before though, I knew that every word counted for this.

"Fine then, go ahead and take the pills."

His head snapped up and his eyes met mine. He looked surprised, and I could tell my plan was working. "W-what?" he asked, his face so grief stricken that it would make any strong person break down.

"You obviously don't care about the people that you're going to hurt," I started. He looked so confused by my words but I continued, "it's obviously what you want to do: so do it." He looked at the bottle and then at me, making me second guess myself for a moment.

"I-I can't," he finally answered and I sighed in relief, slowly prying the pill bottle from his hands. I grabbed his wrists and brought his chin up, making him look me in the eyes.

"You weren't going to," I told him, "if you had really wanted to then you would've locked the door. Trust me, I've been to where you are now, you wanted someone to stop you." He started to cry again and he pulled me into a tight hug. "What happened? Why did you grab the pill bottle?" I prompted.

"I was looking at one of our videos, and one of the comments said I didn't deserve to be in the band. They said I should kill myself," he told me through sobs.

"And you listened to them?" I wondered as my hands played with his bleached hair, the gesture always calmed me down when I was upset.

"Not at first," he sniffed, "but then my knee started to bug me again and I went to get some pain medication. I saw the bottle and I just snapped. I kept trying to tell myself that I was already used to the hate and that it wasn't true. Something in the back of my head said that it was all true though."

I felt my heart break with his words and I felt a tear roll down my cheek." Niall, you are so important and amazing. Not just as a famous person but just your personality in general. So many people love you, they would be devastated if you were just suddenly gone."

"But I can't sing, I shouldn't be in One Direction," he cried and my heart stopped for a moment.

"Bullcrap," I protested, "your solos are everything I look forward to in you guys' songs, I love your voice."

He pulled away and looked up at me with a smile, "really?"

"Of course!" I exclaimed, "in fact, I often used to play them when I was having trouble sleeping, they helped me get to bed." I blushed a little when I admitted it, "could YOU actually sing to me every night?" He looked taken aback for a moment but soon recovered, nodding quickly.

"Every night," he promised and I smiled at him.

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I know it wasn't my best work and it's kind of depressing but it is necessary. It will get happier though, I promise! :)

-cow_queen