Mistaken (Niall Horan)

1. Back To Consciousness

Chapter (1) - Back To Consciousness

Muffled voices enter my ears, but some beeping is louder and stronger than them all.  It finds its way to my brain easily, like it knows where to attack it. I feel my head aching so badly. I'm not feeling well. I try to open my eyes, but my lids are so heavy that I can't even move them. What happened? My hand moves to my head unconsciously because I can't handle the pain. I moan and try to open my eyes again, with all my strength this time. I succeed in opening them a bit, but my sight is really blurry, like I'm one of those people who can't see without their spectacles. I try to ask about what's happening, but I realize that even my jaw is hurting so much. Are my face muscles dying? What the fuck did I do to feel this terrible?

“Niall?” I hear a familiar, manly voice calling in a low tone.

They sound hopeful. Now I'm sure I'm not well because this is not how a normal person speaks; this has so much concern and hope. I moan lowly as a response since it's the only thing that I can do right now.

“Niall,” the same voice repeats. But now, it sounds more like a statement than a call, and his voice is louder. “Guys, he's awake. Thank God!”

He's awake, thank God? Is that for real? I'm awake? I'm not a big fan of sleeping; that's Zayn. Holy shit, Zayn. The boys. Where are they?

I open my eyes again slowly, and they hurt so badly. But, I see blurry faces faces. It's true my sight is blurry, but I can't let it stay like this for long. I need to know what's happening. I keep blinking, and it's becoming better, hurting still but giving better sight. After a couple of times already, I see very familiar faces, all very concerned; it's evident.

“Niall, you okay bro?” one of them speaks, and and I have this urge to tell them I'm fine.

But I'm not, and I can't. I moan and blink one more time as I can't find any other response. I start recognizing the faces and feel better. I know the boys, my band mates. Then, someone else pops in my mind, and I feel like running to her. I feel in charge of her, and somehow, guilt haunts me.

“Where's Hanya?” I inquire, not caring about the pain.

For some reason, I feel extra worried about her. I always care about her of course, but now, I have to know if she is okay or not. I feel responsible for her.

The boys' faces change from hopeful to worried. Louis looks away as if he knows that what his eyes show won't be helpful. Zayn coughs and looks around like he's searching for something, and Liam does the same, except that he scratches the back of his neck too. I look at Harry, and he looks down at his hands.

“'Where is she?”

I can't help it, so the words slip out of my mouth after the guys' reactions made me dead worried about her.

“She's...” Harry trails off, and I swear he sees how much I want to know in my eyes because he gulps and proceeds, “She's in another room.”