You're Just A Daydream Away

Chapter 21

Thirteen scars. Thirteen times a knife entered and re-entered my stomach. Thirteen scars on my body that would forever remind me of what happened that night.

As soon as the murderers, or what ever you want to call them, ran out of our apartment, I heard sirens approaching from the distance. I blacked out as I was being lifted onto a gurney to be carried out to the ambulance because of blood loss.

When I woke up in the hospital, I could hardly move. They told me that I was sedated for 3 days because I had constantly been in and out of surgery. They gave me no further information, especially when I asked about Niall or the baby.

Eventually, I had to be told what was going on. The police came in and the hospital didn't want to tell me what happened to prevent stress or shock or depression. Ultimately, they had to so I could help the FBI find the people that did it. Although I'm not sure how much help I could be since my eyes were closed almost the whole time.

The baby was gone. I was devastated. I mean I really kind of expected it; there was no way he/she could of survived that. But it doesn't matter if you anticipate something like that or not, it's bound to hurt.

Secondly, Niall was gone. Not dead like my baby, but kidnapped. The police think who ever did this was jealous of my relationship with Niall. They expected that a ransom note would be delivered soon. The FBI doubted that they were going to harm Niall any further.

This all came out of nowhere. Everything had been going great lately. But I suppose things really do go with the quote "nothing gold can stay." That's a pretty pessimistic way to view the world, but for the most part it seems true.

Great childhood for a while? Oh you're too happy, let's fix that by having your dad die tragically. You're happy in your new relationship? Well guess what, a pregnancy is going to be thrown at you to rock your world. You've grown excited at the idea of having a child? Nope, you can't be happy Haley, that better be taken care of.

The universe almost seems out to get me. And for what? What have I done? Is this all karma for my drug problem in high school? Is it because I drunkenly made an ass out of myself on several occasions? Why was it so hard for me to be happy?

I was in the hospital for a few more days before they released me. I didn't want to stay in the apartment alone, especially with the nursery as a constant reminder that I wouldn't be having a baby anymore. I wanted to go home, but I wasn't supposed to fly.

Niall's parents offered to put me up in their house, but that didn't feel right. I called Zayn to see what I should do. I felt we had been so distant since I started dating Niall, and I missed him.

First of all, he absolutely freaked. I hadn't told him what happened until now. Nobody new really except Niall's family. I'm not even sure if my mum knew. If they told her she would've been at the hospital day and night, but I hadn't heard a word from her. Maybe it was for the best that she not know. She'd just be worried all the time if she did.

Zayn offered to fly out here and stay in a hotel with me, and I gratefully accepted. He was catching the next flight and would be here in a few hours. I didn't know where to go since I was already released from the hospital, so I went to the airport and waited.

Finally, I spotted Zayn walk out of the terminal and I went to great him.

"Long time, no see," he joked half-heartledly.

"Yeah, well you know, I've been busy getting attacked and what not," I tried to say with a light tone.

He looked at me with sympathy in his eyes and wrapped me tight in his arms. I hugged him back with everything I could, even though he was hurting me since I was still sore.

He put his arm around my waste and we walked out of the airport together. Of course there was a limo waiting for us. Only the best for Zayn Malik.

We arrived at the fanciest hotel in Dublin in about ten minutes. I wasn't expecting this. If I had made the hotel reservations instead of Zayn, we'd be staying somewhere really cheap. A worker quickly came out to the limo and grabbed Zayn's bags and put them on a trolley.

I didn't have any clothes with me. Mostly because I could not bear to go inside the apartment, but I wasn't allowed to even if I did want to. It was a crime scene and the police wouldn't let me in.

We went up to our room, which was a suite, duh. These boys all spoil me too much. I collapsed on the bed immediately. Even though I had slept most of the time I was in the hospital I was still exhausted.

Zayn woke me up for dinner. It wasn't until he mentioned food that I realized I had hardly eaten in the last three days.

We ordered our food to be delivered to our room and turned on Netflix. Zayn offered to let me choose the movie, but I refused. I'd pick some sappy love story, and I didn't want to put him through that. Sensing that a chick flick is just what I needed though, he turned on my favorite movie, Like Crazy.

About half way through the movie, and after we had devoured our food, I turned on my phone for the first time since phoning Zayn to come here.

I had tons of missed calls and texts, most from my mother. Some calls were from a number I didn't recognize, and a few were from the rest of the guys.

I called my voicemail to find out that my mom was freaking.

"Haley! Why aren't you answering your phone? I had to find out you were attacked through a magazine! Call me! I love you okay? I hope you're fine. Please call me back, I'm worried sick about you," was one of the many messages from my mom. There were about seven more just like that.

I actually forgot that I'm the girlfriend of an international pop star for a while. It never occurred to me that the story would be all over. I was hoping nobody would have to find out about this, but I guess that ship had sailed.

The unknown number, I found out, was the head detective working on my case. He wanted to meet for dinner, but since I wasn't answering, he was hoping I'd be available for breakfast and wanted me to text him so we could work out details.

The rest of the boys had all called me, and not surprisingly Liam had left a very concerned, caring message.

I was too tired to call any of them back. I quickly sent my mom a text telling her I was alive and Zayn was with me. After, I logged onto twitter and sent out a quick tweet saying basically the same thing, but leaving out the part about Zayn. I didn't need criticism about that.

I laid down on my bed and curled up into the fetal position, wrapping my arms around my very not-pregnant belly. While it was true that I'd be okay physically, emotionally I don't know how I'm going to get through this.