Hello, Mr. Impossible

Chapter 12

HELLO MY LOVELIES. :3

So guess what?! I've been crying for like.. what.. 3 hours? Because I could have met One Direction at MOA, but my dad was in Nebraska and my Mom worked all day. And that was the day I could have gotten wristbands. So now everyday I'm calling the local radio station trying to win wristbands, but I fail epicly :( SCREW MY LIFEEE. Oh well. Hopefully my time will come, right? Tell me not to give up faith. PLEASE. I'M BEGGING YOU. D:

Anyways... sorry for leading you on; you probably thought i'd be all happy and cheerful. 3:

ENJOY. VOTE. COMMENT. Whatever you wanna do to show me that you like my stories :]

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I woke up alone.

And not very comfortable, either.

I was half way off the bed, the pillow laying a couple feet away on the carpet. The blankets were flung to the opposite side, and my arms were resting on the floor, while my legs were curled up.

Well this was an awkward position.

Groaning, I stretched and heard my back crack. Ouch. I tried to pull myself on to the bed, but my body had other plans. Nausea filled my head and I instantly wanted to puke. How long had I been sleeping like this? I decided to just pull myself off the bed.

Yeah, bad idea.

Somehow or another I pulled my legs over my head, causing me to go tumbling down and smack my head on the dresser in front of me. It was like doing a backwards summer salt. How is that even possible? I reached for the dresser when the clock came tumbling down and hit me in the head.

The word was against me. I was sure of it.

Moaning and clutching my forehead, I stood up and automatically ran to my bathroom, puking up everything I must have eaten last night, leaving a nasty, lingering taste in the back of my throat that no matter how many times I swallowed my spit and coughed; wouldn't go away.

What happened last friday night?

Okay. Think. Liam and Danielle split. I had eaten a gigantic bucket of Ice Cream, 27 twix bars, and 3 large bags of Dill Pickle chips.

God, someone should hire me as Santa Claus.

And then there was the vague memory of sleeping with Niall. As friends. I moaned and stood up, everything still trying to be processed through my sore ego. After rubbing my belly and convincing myself that I wouldn't throw up again, I exited my room quietly and tip-toed down the stairs, listening for the guys.

Everything was silent.

Something was wrong. It was never quiet in this house.

When I got downstairs I noticed a bright, pink piece of paper with small letters scribbled down on it. I snatched it from the table and read the words to myself hastily.

Dear Ella,

We had to go to an interview. So sorry! Liam remembered this morning. If you want to watch us, we're on live at 1:00pm on channel 11. We'll be home this afternoon!

~The Boys

I sighed. So that's why the house was unusually quiet. I set the paper back down on the table and rummaged around in the fridge for something that would soothe my stomach. I settled on a blueberry muffin and orange juice. I trampled off to the living room and flickered on the TV. I wonder what time it was? Probably like nine. I looked at the clock above the tv to see it was 12:55pm. I slept that long?!