Nightlight (on hold)

Chapter One

Chapter One:

It was raining out. Pouring actually. Like you know when the wind is so rough that the rain goes horizontal. It was that rough. I could hear the wind screaming and I waited a few seconds after I saw lightning until I heard thunder.

I checked the time quickly. Zayn should be home soon. I continued folding the crescent rolls into the croissant shapes.

Eleanor had taught me how to make them yesterday and I wanted to surprise Zayn. I wanted to show him how much I had learned about cooking.

It was raining out, and I knew he’d be soaked, and tired, and cranky, so I thought surprising him with homemade crescent rolls and tea would be a good way to cheer him up.

I popped the tray of rolls into the preheated oven and kicked the oven door shot with my foot.

All I had to do was wait.

I strummed my fingers on the counter for a minute, but then I got bored. I ventured around the massive house. The house that I was all alone. He left me all alone during the days.

Of course, there were guards around the perimeter, and at each entrance, but Zayn told me to leave them outside. I felt bad for them, having to stand outside in the rain, but last time I invited them in, Zayn got angry with me and with them.

So, going against my judgment, I left them be.

I found myself in the nursery. I had spent so much time, and given so much effort to the room that I often found myself in there. The furniture was all white, and the walls a pale blue. It was feminine enough that it would fit a girl, but also masculine enough that it’d work for a boy. Zayn had wanted the gender of our baby to be a surprise.

But I couldn’t wait, so I brought Eleanor with me.

I sat on the floor and leaned my back against the crib. I could smell the rolls baking in the kitchen from all the way up in the nursery. I shut my eyes and just enjoyed the smell of baby powder and baked goods.

And I guess I must have fallen asleep.

I awoke god knows how much later to the sound of a frantic beeping. I barely got the time to register what was happening before I felt the smoke.

Shit, shit, the rolls!

I raced down the stairs, coughing as the smoke got thicker and thicker. Just when I made it to the kitchen, I heard the front door slam open.

“HANNAH! Shit, Hannah!” Zayn’s worried voice somehow carried through the thick grey smoke.

I turned on the vent over the stove and shut off the oven. I quickly grabbed the tray of rolls and pulled them out of the oven, with the intention of putting them in the sink, under cool water, to stop the burning.

Of course, I forget to put on oven mitts, so I burn myself and end up dropping the tray instead.

“Darlin’, are you ok? What happened?” Zayn came rushing in, soaking wet from the rain outside, his face twisted in fear. He took a look at the scene before grabbing my wrist and shoving it under the cool water, intended for the rolls.

“What happened?” He demanded. He held my hand still, palm open, as he reached up into the cabinet above us and grabbed the first aid kit. He pulled my wrist back and laid it down flat. I started to cry, the pain of the burn finally kicking in.

He sighed heavily and put cream on my palm, then he wrapped it up in gauze. His eyes met my teary ones and he pulled my hand up to kiss it.

“Better?” He whispered. I nodded at him, but then looked down at his mocha skin against the whiteness of my bandage.

“Now sit down.” He ordered. I did as told and slid onto the kitchen chair. Zayn kneeled down and carefully picked up the blackened rolls carefully. He threw them out immediately before he grabbed an oven mitt and propped the burning hot metal tray in the cold water of the sink.

I watched him with careful eyes.

“Start talking.” He sat across from me. His hair was tousled and matted against his forehead, still damp from the rain, and his clothing clung to him tightly.

“I was trying to make you crescent rolls.” I sniffled. I felt the tears start up again. Zayn shuffled to the chair closer to me, and reached over to cup my cheek and wipe them away.

“You tried to cook for me?” He looked shocked. I nodded, feeling embarrassed and belittled. I guess I should have known it would’ve turned out like that. I suck at homemaking.

I guess I’m no good for anything.

“I wanted to do something nice for you.” I shrugged. I felt Zayn pull me in for a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Why didn’t you just pull them out? Those rolls were in there for an hour or two longer than they needed to be.”

“I-I went upstairs, to the nursery, I fell asleep. I’m sorry, please don’t be mad.” I begged him. He looked at me for a moment, his emotion unreadable on his face.

Zayn stood up quickly from the table and started to go upstairs without another word. But I knew exactly where he was going. We’ve had this argument before.

“I won’t go in there again, I promise! Zayn don’t!” I raced after him, crying like a fucking baby because I couldn’t help it. He was going to lock the nursery door. I wouldn’t be able to get back in. He didn’t understand that room was important to me. Not even I understood it.

“I’m doing it for your own good. You can’t keep doing this.” He said as he wandered off into his office. I bolted into the nursery and sat on the floor. If he wanted to lock the door, then he’d have to lock me in.

“Come on Darlin’, get up.” He gestured for me to stand when he entered the nursery. In his hands he held the thick padlock he used to lock the door last time.

“No, please don’t do this. Please.” I begged him. His eyes softened as he looked at me, but that didn’t stop him from reaching down and hoisting me off the floor. I didn’t even fight him, I just cried. He carried me out of the room and set me down in the hall. I curled into a ball and refused to watch him do it, though I could hear the distinctive click of the lock, signaling that my sanctuary was closed off.

“I don’t know why you keep torturing yourself like this.” He mumbled. I felt his hands encase me again and then I was no longer on the ground.

“You’re tearing yourself apart.” He whispered. I knew he was taking me to our bedroom and even though I was upset with him and I didn’t want to be touched, I allowed him to carry me. I didn’t want to fight with him.

“Come on, Hannah, don’t you cry. The room is still there, it’s just locked.” He reminded me.

I was waiting for the day that Zayn would leave me. I mean, why would he stay with me after everything he’s done? He’s given me a home, love, food, warmth, shelter, he takes care of me. But I couldn’t give him anything in return. He wouldn’t let me work, school was out, I was a horrible homemaker, no cooking, no cleaning,

We had been married eight months and I was constantly waiting for him to just kick me out.

I mean, I couldn’t even be a fucking mother.

All I had to do was carry our baby inside me for nine months but I fucked even that up.

The Doctor said that because I didn’t know I was pregnant until a little while in that it wasn’t my fault. The child was conceived before I started using birth control pills and because I used them during the developmental stages, it fucked up my baby.

So I lost it.

I lost our little boy.

Zayn hadn’t even been home at the time. I was with Eleanor, and we were folding baby clothes when I suddenly started pissing blood. One emergency trip later, I had to tell my husband that I killed our child because I was dumb enough to take birth control while I was pregnant.

Whether I knew I was with child or not, it doesn’t change the fact that my baby, our baby, is dead and it’s my fault.

Yeah, Zayn should just leave me.

“Why don’t you take a nap?” He suggested as he lay me down on our mattress. I shuffled right out of his arms to put distance between us.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” I snapped. I knew that I was being needy and emotional ever since it happened, but that gave him no right to speak to me in that condescending and patronizing tone. It was degrading and embarrassing. I was already degraded and embarrassed enough without him.

“Darlin’, I didn’t mean to-”

“Just leave me the fuck alone.”

“C’mon, Hannah.”

“Leave me alone.”

“You know what? Fine. I’ll leave you alone. It’s fucking ridiculous that you snap at me after I fucking help you. I’m outta here.” Zayn slammed the door behind him. I cradled my burned hand to my chest and cried some more.

I could faintly hear Zayn’s office door slam shut from down the hall.

About a half an hour later I summoned up the courage to get off the bed. Zayn’s door was still shut when I began to make my way downstairs and I figured it best not to disturb him.

I looked around our grand house and felt left out. I didn’t fit in. I didn’t belong in a place like this. The house deserved better. I didn’t belong with Zayn. He deserved better.

I wanted to run away for a little bit, give us both space and let me clear my head. But those dumb guards wouldn’t let me. They had strict orders from their boss that no one goes in or out without his say so. Including me.

And believe me, I had tried.

I made my way to the back corner of the ginormous house, the library. Why we have a fucking library, I don’t know. There was no exit or entrance at this part of the house, so none of Zayn’s gang members were stationed. Along with the shrubbery in front of the windows, it was the perfect way out.

It’s how Eleanor and I snuck out to secretly find out the sex of the baby.

I unlocked one of the windows and opened it wide enough so my body could slide through. I quickly slipped in between the frame of the sill and the glass and then shut the window behind me.

The ground was still wet from the rain, but luckily it was no longer pouring. My sock clad feet were already soaked from the mud, but I didn’t particularly care. I ignored the uncomfortable feeling of passing through the prickly shrubs and made a break for the large fence surrounding our property.

There were guards stationed at each corner, so I went for the dead center of one stretch. I quickly scaled up the side of the fence and made the short leap down to the ground on the other side.

I felt like I was breaking out of prison.

I guess, in some ways, I was.

It wasn’t like I wasn’t going to go back. I just needed to be by myself for a little bit, away from that toxic house. I barely ever left that house anymore. Zayn was always too busy working, and I didn’t really have the energy to go shopping with Eleanor and a flock of One Direction lower members assigned to come with us.

Sometimes you just need a break, you know?

I knew that I’d be in for it when I got back, but I couldn’t think about that until later. I wouldn’t let fear inhibit my freedom.

I made it down to the road when I felt my cell phone in my back pocket buzzing. I refused to answer it, but I did double check the caller I.D just to confirm my suspicions: my husband was calling.

He no doubt had a tracker on my phone, so I flung that to the side and into the mud, and kept moving.