The room fell still. Nothing was breathing and time had stopped. I never would have thought that such a universal stoppage of time could happen to someone like me. Is this happening to everyone? Am I the only one frozen in the world?
“Niall?”
My mum’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. The freezing of my body caused me to become energized. I reacted quickly by immediately pressing the ‘end’ button on my phone. I tossed my phone onto the couch like it was burning my hand.
My shaking fingers raked through my dirty blond hair. A few strands of hair stuck to my sweaty brow. I think my body was shaking immensely, but I couldn’t tell exactly because my mind was taking control.
I thought there was another person in the room screaming at me, but then I realized that it was just the voice in my head. That voice is no longer small, it never will be.
My legs couldn’t support myself. My legs toppled beneath me and I fell to the ground. I collapsed and my body weight rested on my shins as my face was hidden in my hands. I couldn’t do this anymore; I was breaking again.
I needed a distraction, but nothing in my flat would help me with that. The walls continued to reflect my silent screams, pushing them back into my head.
I thought of the first time this had happened. It was when I was trying to cope with Greg’s death. I had pushed the blame on myself, and I couldn’t handle the guilt. When Jo came along, I could finally distract myself.
Jo is not my distraction, Emily is not my distraction, and the boys are not my distraction. I can’t be with people now. I can’t be locked in the familiar walls. I need a drink.
I stumbled to my feet and guided myself to the door. I threw on my usual disguise: my old sweatshirt, grass-stained tennis shoes, plain jeans, a snapback, and some sunglasses. I rushed out the door, grabbing my car keys on the way out.
*
The car ride killed me. I blasted the stereo on full volume, but I felt like my head was screaming louder, over the music, to make sure I could hear. MY head pounded with a killer headache in response to the bass, even before I had drunk anything.
I finally pulled up in front of an old bar. It looked like it was on the verge of bankruptcy, and the type of bar only old drunks go to. I should be good here.
I got out of the car and headed inside. The small space was only filled with the slurred conversation of two homeless drunks. The bartender was busy trying to clean off the counter. I don’t see why he keeps trying because those stains seem to be embedded onto the surface.
I trudged over to the counter and collapsed in a chair. I didn’t bother to take off my sunglasses or hat. He probably wouldn’t recognize me since he’s in his forties or fifties, but I don’t want to take any chances.
He eyed me suspiciously, probably because of the fact that I was wearing sunglasses indoors. He shook it off, though. I assume he’s had a ton of weirdoes in this place, “Um, so, what can I get you?” he awkwardly asked.
I ordered a beer and showed him my ID. I was handed a drink and I stared at the amber color, covered in a film of white foam. It’s weird to think that only a couple of these can fix me.
My hand gripped the frosted drink and brought it up to my lips. The liquid slid down my throat. The taste was satisfying. I was able to down the drink in only a minute or so. I really didn’t care about enjoying myself; I only wanted to get drunk.
I mumbled a request for another and was served it. The bartender continued to clean his counter, but this time he decided to speak up, “Slow down, kid, you’re gonna get sick!”
I brought the half-empty glass away from my lips and set it down, but my hand didn’t leave the glass. I shrugged, “So what?” I muttered. I brought the glass up to my lips, “It’s not like life means shit, anyways,” I muttered before gulping down the rest of my drink.
“So what’s got you down, son?” he seemed to actually want to know. I wonder why. Well, he seems to have been working here for a while. Maybe he’s achieved the art of acting like he cares when he really doesn’t.
“I’m sick of my life. At first, it’s a ton of fun, but then reality comes crashing down on you. I realized that I’m becoming like everyone else who is like me, so I’ll just have the same ending.”
My story had to be confusing for him. He doesn’t understand that I’m famous, so he won’t have any idea of what I’m saying about myself.
He didn’t act confused, he just nodded and continued to clean the dirty counter, “Life’s a bitch, I get it. Sometimes you have to understand that and move past it.”
“But why move on when you can just end it?” I asked.
“That’s up to you to come up with that answer,” he replied.
I wasn’t expecting that to come from an old bartender. I had expected to get a confused look or just nod like he knew what I was saying, but actually didn’t. Instead, he pulled out a really good point.
He noticed my thoughtful expression, “Didn’t expect that, did you?” he slightly chuckled at the end. I noticed that he really hadn’t been concentrating on anything in particular, just the counter that he already seemed to be bored of.
“No, not really,” I admitted. I glanced at my empty glass, “I’ll take another,” I sadly mumbled.
The bartender didn’t argue, he just filled up my drink and then handed it back to me. I already started soaking my mouth with the familiar taste. I finished off the drink in what seemed to be a record time in my mind.
I glanced over at the two homeless guys chatting in the corner of the room at a cracked table. They each had a drink in their hands, drinking away the poverty and failures. Meanwhile, I was drinking away guilt and the idea of my career being ruined. I knew their reason was better, but I couldn’t stop myself now that I started.
I raised an eye at the bartender once my drink was done. He sighed, “Come on, kid, calm yourself. I don’t want to call a taxi to drive your drunken arse home. Just slow down.”
I pulled out a couple large bills and handed it to him. He sighed again but filled up another glass for me. I immediately started drinking the new drink. And, I was sick of the beer.
“Do you have anything stronger?” I asked.
“Please-” he began, but I set out some more bills on the countertop. He muttered something under his breath, but filled up a small glass of whiskey for me. He handed it to me and I immediately drank it. The burning liquid slid down my throat and the pain felt nice.
The room was already getting a little blurry. I think the two homeless guys voices were getting hard to tell apart. I sputtered out something about a few more shots of whiskey, and this time the bartender did so without complaining.
I drank a couple more shots and knew that I was definitely drunk. The bartender had three sets of eyes and whatever he said seemed to go in one ear and out the other. I would mumble something stupid and then he would just roll his three sets of eyes.
“More,” I demanded, holding out my shot glass. This time he shook his head, “No, kid. I don’t want you to get alcohol poisoning and puke all over my bar. Just get home… I can call you a taxi if you want.”
“I can’t go home!” I exclaimed, “I-I just want to get away from it all,” I had mumbled the last part.
He sighed, noticing that I really wasn’t just some stupid kid, “I know it’s hard, but I think it will get better if you actually try harder instead of going to drinking for a refuge. I’m not getting you another drink.”
“Well, fine, I’ll get the damn drink myself,” I snapped, pulling myself up to my feet. I stumbled towards the end of the counter, but the bartender quickly rushed over to that end and walked towards me, “Get out of here, kid.”
“No!” I protested, dragging out the ‘o’. I heard him sigh again, clearly annoyed by me. I tried to push forward, but my movements were so uncoordinated that he simply pushed me back and I fell to the ground. He helped me back up to my feet and led me out the door, “Solve things back home, kid. That’s the only solution,” he told me and shut the door on me.
I was about to pound on the door and demand for him to let me in, but I decided to just go and do something else, he wasn’t worth it.
I realized that it was pitch black out now. I didn’t know what part of the city I was in, but I wasn’t ready to get in my car and drive home. I need to just wander around for a little.
The blinding streetlights filled my eyes and the noise of the city blurred together in my ears. I felt like the world was spinning, but I couldn’t fall. My legs mechanically moved me down the street, blending me in with the large city crowds.
Niall… you’re going to a therapist now. I think it will be fun to see how the press reacts to that news. I wonder what outrageous stories they’ll tell… I wonder what will happen when they learn the truth, Greg whispered. I noticed him walking beside me. I ignored him and hugged my arms over my chest. It got bitterly cold.
Everyone will know the truth that you killed me, Greg whispered.
“Shut the fuck up,” I muttered under my breath. I looked up to see a few people eyeing me suspiciously. I didn’t say anything; I just minded my own business.
The road seemed to be going into a neighborhood, that doesn’t mean I will turn around, though. I walked further down the road, the dinky houses got closer and closer together.
I tripped over a small crack, but quickly regained my balance. Idiot. I continued walking down the road and I felt my stomach doing flips. Son of a bitch. I stared at my feet as I walked and bumped shoulders with someone. Faggot. I continued to walk.
Can’t get out of this one, Niall. What will you do now? Greg whispered into my ear. A cold chill ran down my spine, but I didn’t even react. I just continued walking. I wonder how far I can get.
Then, I felt an aura fill my pores. I felt a cool breeze blow through the threads of my sweatshirt. More voices filled my ear and I looked up. I knew that familiar feeling. I was in front of the house.
I knew I couldn’t resist, so I didn’t even stop myself. I quickly headed up to the door. I tossed aside the mat and grabbed the silver key. I shoved it in the lock and threw the door open. I don’t think I even bothered to close it behind me. I dropped the key on the floor and ran up the stairs, tripping a few times. I ran into our room and slammed the door behind me, the noise echoed through the empty house.
I collapsed on the floor. I curled up into a ball, my back facing the ceiling. My hands covered my ears and my head was pressed against my thighs. My stomach was exploding with pain, but my head was even worse.
I wanted to scream, but I lost my voice a long time ago. I let my head do the talking. I wanted to just cry, but tears wouldn’t fall. I wanted to get help, but that is impossible.
Niall, keep my Jo safe.
Niall, don’t fall in love with me.
Niall, don’t fall in love with someone else.
Niall, don’t forget what you did.
“S-Stop,” was all I could muster out. I felt like I was being weighed down and couldn’t get up. I wanted to push them away, but they would only come back through the walls once I wasn’t looking.
Niall, we don’t want to go away. You don’t want us to go away, either.
I tried to pull myself up to my feet, but it was just impossible. I was being pushed down by a force much stronger than a force on earth. It was something indescribable and I hoped I would never feel again.
“S-Stop, I whispered. Their voices combined.
“Stop!” I screamed.
The room fell silent. I wanted to open my eyes, but I just couldn’t. Reality was something impossible to face.
“Niall?” I heard a small voice that wasn’t in my head.
I can’t believe I got a chapter done without my dad grounding me. He’s really been pissed at me lately and I haven’t done anything. It really is just stressful and tires me out… well, comment, follow, SHARE, Fb like, tweet, and vote (every chapter please!)! Bye lovelies!
~Lydia♥
