Depression (Niall Horan Love Story)

Chapter 3

I put my last bag on the bus. I checked around the yard, seeing if anything was left that I missed in loading. "I am going to check my room, one last time," I said to Niall, before I went into my house. I went slowly up the stairs, the moment being movie like.

I opened my bedroom door, the walls the same pale peach color. My bed still made. I went through my drawers quickly, nothing left but a small piece of a bead. I glimpsed over my dresser tops, nothing but my jewelry box.

I opened it up, and there was the letter I wrote when I turned fourteen. I opened it, I too, forgot what it read. No ones but my eyes had ever seen the dreadful words casted upon the paper.

"Dear Dad,
You weren't here today, but you weren't yesterday, or even a year ago. It all makes sense, the fact that you passed. Sometimes I wonder if I can still get to Heaven by suicide, so I can lay by your side. I probably should've started out with that I turned fourteen today. It wasn't the same without you, nothing is ever the same anymore. Thanksgiving is no fun without your home-made, beer soaked corn. Christmas wasn't the same without you lifting me up to put the star on the tree, even though it was always a better sight to see when you did it. Mom, she sits on the couch, every time she passes your picture on the wall. One day, I am going to have to take it down. The thought still remains, could I get to Heaven by suicide?"

A tear fell down my cheek as I read it aloud. The old memories flooding back, even from my first counseling session. Where they said I was in a state of shock. I never once opened my mouth to the woman in the chair, her pen out, ready to judge every word that would come out of my mouth.

The only words that ever slipped were "why would I want to talk about myself? Do you really want to talk about a girl who has nothing ahead of her but a broken family," that was the day my mom straightened up.

I turned around to see Louis' reflection in the mirror. "You can't get to Heaven by suicide, no matter how hard you try," he whispered. My breath hitched in my throat, no one had ever heard or read that letter besides me, until now.

"I know," I whispered back, my voice hoarse from the tears I was holding back. "Let's go, their waiting for us," I folded the letter up, and put it back in my jewelry box. I picked up the small wooden box and held it in my hands as I walked down the stairs behind Louis.

We reached outside, and Louis took the box from me "I'll put it with your things," he said as my mom came up to me to say goodbye. She hugged me tight, and did a death grip on my arms. "Do you have everything? All of your schoolwork, clothes, phone accessories, girly things?"

I nodded, not being able to talk, from fear of my voice cracking. it was later in the evening, around eight O'clock. The boys didn't want any fans to be likely to spot the bus. I hugged her once more and we were off, in the bus as she yelled after me and the boys "be safe, and take good care of her, please!"

The bus was moving, and there was no turning back from the adventure that lay ahead of me. "I think I am going to go to bed," I said pulling a pair of zebra print shorts and my Up All Night T-shirt. I went into the bathroom and quickly changed, I even took off my bra, something I never do in front of people.

"Where do I sleep," I asked the boys who were all in the sort of living area with two couches. Niall flushed pink as Harry smirked. "You have to bunk, or in other words share a bed with Nialler over here."

I smiled, and flushed a light shade of pink as well "ok, see you boys in the morning." Then I was off to the bunk with Niall carved on top. I lay down, and looked up. I wasn't necessarily tired, I just wanted to let everything settle in. Reading that letter brought back when I first wrote it.

I sat on my bedroom floor, my birthday wasn't any fun to me. My friends were all here, my mom bought me tons of presents, I got everything I wanted. Except for my dad there. Though, it was virtually impossible I still hoped for a miracle. I sat on my bedroom floor, the pen and notepad placed in front of me. I took my hand-held pencil sharpener from my nightstand drawer and unscrewed the screw that held the blade in place.

I pressed it to my thigh, and a tear rolled down my cheek. No, not from pain, but from my emotional damage and stress that I needed relief. I then took the pen and put it to the paper. I wrote the note, I wrote is several times over, waiting for the one with the perfect handwriting. I held it up to the light, and smiled, until I saw the splash of blood that had somehow made its way onto the paper.

I took a napkin from behind me and applied pressure to my thigh. Things were so much worse now. I hadn't been the same sine he left. No one was the same. Not even mom.

I snapped out of my daze when Niall slipped in next to me, I turned my face to see him. Not even realizing I was crying until he wiped away the already fallen tears. "Don't cry love. Just tell me what wrong." I held him in my arms, embracing his warmth to my cold body.

"The letter," was all I could choke out before I mumbled "Depression." I could tell he was very confused, but he decided not to question me further tonight.

He wrapped me in his arms, and held me tight, even though it was the first night. I liked the way he smelled, like axe and apples.

Better than any smell, I could remember. It relaxed me, and it helped me forget about the daze I was in moment before.

Then, I fell into a soothing sleep, comforted by the soft snores of the sleeping cookie monster next to me. This trip was definitely going to be a long one.