The Girl Who Killed One Direction {Fanfiction}

Chapter 6 - Pandemonium

{Warning: Gore in chapter}

Chapter 6

There is one thing I have always really loved about cities. The light. Even on the darkest of nights where clouds cover the sky in a shroud of gloom and grey, and not even a ray of light can struggle down to Earth, even on those type of nights you can see everything perfectly. Well, maybe not perfectly. Shadows hide the small print things, of course, however there are things like advertisements or shop signs that demand to be seen. Things that call our attention with light, making them stand out in the dark. Sometimes these things that we see are not necessarily lit up by themselves, but instead have light shone on them. Sometimes, for no reason at all, you can just see certain things in the dark, things that you shouldn't see or wish you could un-see.

Like the heap of mangled corpses that had once been five boys. Five extremely famous British boys.

I say five boys, but it really was hard to tell. They were literally under my car. In my frantic and shocked state, I reversed back away from them. It wasn't easy, like trying to reverse over a small hill that could move and squirm beneath you. It took me a few tries to really reverse back. My panicked state took over me though, and all I could think to do was reverse. I'll tell you know what a mistake that was. As I'd said, they were quite literally under my car, and reversing over them not only greeted me with the cracking of bones and squelching of God knows what, but also with the twisted and strained groans and screams of the boys that had been still alive (how was I to know?). Well, they weren't alive anymore.

I opened the door of the car and tumbled out, crouching to the ground as I felt my legs give way beneath me. The air was cold, but I didn't feel it. At first, I just felt numb. There was nothing. Everything was silent outside. Not a single sound, not even a wisp of wind or the roar of a car engine. Maybe there were sounds but my mind was blocking them out.

Then it hit me.

My heart thumped in my chest and blood rushed through my veins like it was trying to escape the situation I was in. Single heartbeats rang through my mind and a silent scream tore it's way through me as I clenched my fists together and dug my nails into the flesh of my hand, letting my knuckles turn white as my whole body quivered and shook. My spine began to curl in on itself as the shaking became more violent and a gaping pain in my chest made me feel like I was dying. It was guilt, pure guilt, tearing it's way through me along with fear and shock as the staggering and incomprehensible realisation of the truth and what had just occurred lodged itself into my brain, burning and burying it's way in so that it was impossible to forget. The truth... I would never be able to be able to forget it!

My breaths caught in my throat and I found myself choking as I wrapped my arms around myself and began to rock. At first, tears wouldn't come, but when they did they poured down my face like they were made of acid, scolding me and sending me into a frenzy of panic and hysteria as I began to rock faster. As the moments of silence dragged on, every atom in my body set on wire and tortured me as my thoughts raced on and on and on. Nothing made sense. My eyesight was tinged with red as I stared down at my feet, curled up legs and the chewing-gum painted concrete of the street beneath me. Red. Red. Everything was red. They were dead!

I had murdered them.

That thought rang in my mind, cool and clear. It silenced everything else. I was a murderer. No, I was more than a murderer. I had killed One Direction. I was a celebrity murderer. I hadn't meant for it to happen, I honestly hadn't seen them. I had been distracted. That man on the roof with the beacon, he had stolen my attention from the moment I turned down the street. Now that I thought about it, he was probably just there for a stunt or for an advertisement of some sort. Maybe he was sending a message in a bizarre code. Whatever the reason, because of him I was a murderer. No... It wasn't really his fault. I was just looking for someone else to blame. In the end, it was all my fault. I was the one who hadn't been paying attention, after all.