Letters to Niall Horan

Chapter 3

Tatum’s P.O.V

            Thunder was booming outside. I hated thunder. I threw my blankets over my head and snuggled into my pillows, hoping it would block out the noise from the outside world. I could hear the rain hit the window on the opposite side of my room with loud thunks. It must have been raining pretty hard.

            My face soon became flushed and I could feel the heat being sucked towards me. I threw the covers off of my head and let out a loud breath. I looked off to the far side of my room at the window. Lighting was flashing and small rain drops were trickling down the glass. It looked truly beautiful.

            I slowly stood up and walked over to the window. I had one of those bench seats on it and sat down, leaning my head on the cool glass. The lightning lit up the sky as it struck. The rain had died down to a soft mist and lightly ran down the pain. I smiled and pressed my hand up against the window, removing it seconds later to see my hand print etched on the glass.

            I slowly stood up and made my way back over to my bed, deciding it was time to sleep. I threw the covers back and climbed in, throwing them over me once more. I snuggled into them and fell into a dark sleep.

            When I had awoken the next morning the only sign of the rain that was there the previous night were small puddles that surrounded the yard. I stretched and looked out the window. My hand print had dissolved from the glass. I walked over to my closet and pulled out a dark pair of skinny jeans along with a gray sweatshirt. I walked into the bathroom and changed, throwing my hair up into a messy bun, pulling some strands loose to try and make me look “cute.”

            I bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen where our house keeper, Sophie, was cleaning up a bit. I made my way to the cubbard where I grabbed both the cereal and a bowl. I placed them gently down at the counter and made my way to get the milk and a spoon.

            “Good morning, Miss Morrigan.”

            “Sophie, we’ve been over this, call me Tatum,” I said with a smile.

            “Oh right, I’m sorry about that, it always slips my mind,” she said, giving a slight laugh.

            “Don’t worry about it.”

            I piled my cereal into my mouth, milk dripping out the corners. I watched as Sophie cleaned away at the kitchen. She was only about twenty-five and was stuck as a house cleaner. She got to choose when she worked, so I guess it’s not that bad.

            Her all blond hair was pulled into a bun that laid on top of her head. I could see the darkness of her deep brown eyes as I went and put my dishes in the sink. She looked over at me and smiled, a dimple protruding her right cheek. I smiled back at her and went to the front door to but on my shoes.

            I slipped on my black uggs and slipped on my coat, throwing my bag over my shoulder.

            “Goodbye, Sophie!” I yelled.

            “Bye Tatum! You won’t need your key, I’ll be here!”

            “Okay!”

            I walked out the door. The cool air nipped at my cheeks and ears as I made my way down the sidewalk. I kept my head down, blocking the wind from my face. I was then meet with an astonishing force. I looked up, quickly apologizing. I stopped.

            “Hey there, pig face.”

            It was Darcy.

                                                            *****

            I walked into the house with my hood pulled up. I slipped of my bag and threw my bag on the ground.

            “Tatum? Tatum, is that you?”

            Sophie’s voice came from the living room. I kept my head down and walked to the stairs, hoping to avoid her. I wasn’t so lucky.

            “Tatum,” she said, grabbing my shoulder.

            I stiffened at her touch and started breathing heavily.

            “Tatum, are you okay?”

            I didn’t respond, I was trying to slow my breathing. She grabbed me by both shoulders, forcing me to face her. I kept my head down. She grabbed held of my hood.

            “No!” I screamed, slapping her hands away.

            “Tatum, what’s wrong-“

            “Don’t touch me! Let me go!” I started thrashing about under her grip.

            “Tatum, shhh. Stop. I’m not going to hurt you.” She pulled me into her.

            I pushed against her, “Please, just let me go.”

            Racking sobs shook my body and I stopped fighting her. I let myself melt into her and I let her hug me. She rubbed circles on my back and made hushing noises in my ear.

            I had finally calmed down enough for her to release me. She grabbed at my hood once more and this time I didn’t fight her. She pulled it down and gasped. Laid upon my left cheekbone was a purple bruise.

            “Who did this?” Sophie asked, her voice muffled by her hand.

            “It doesn’t matter.”

            “Tatum-“

            “I’m fine Sophie, really.”

            “Oh, okay. Go up to your room and I’ll bring you up an ice pack.”

            “Okay.”

            I turned and went to walk up the stairs when Sophie had stopped me once again.

            “Tatum, before I forget! This came in the mail today, it’s for you.”

            I turned and took the envelope from her hand. The return address was from the person I sent the letter to. I scrambled up the steps and fled into my room.

            I sat on my bed and ran my fingers across the envelope seal. I was hesitant on opening it, but then curiosity got the best of me. I gently tore the envelope open and pulled out the letter, unfolding it.

            Dear T,

            I am sorry for the struggles you are facing. I may not know you, but I want to help you. I would like you to know that I am here for you and I will not share your secrets with anybody. I know what it’s like to feel so alone inside, it’s the worst feeling in the world. But you just have to find a way to make it better, to ease the pain in some way. A good way to do this is talking about it and I think that is what your counselor is suggesting. And I would be happy to help.

                                                                                                Niall Horan

            I stared at in shock. I didn’t expect them to write back and I was not expecting for it to be a boy, But a person is a person, right?

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