Make A Wish [Narry au] (slow updates)

[3] Niall

When I was three, I choked on a carrot I grabbed from the kitchen counter while my mum's back was turned towards me. I don't think I knew what was going on, all I knew was that suddenly I couldn't breathe anymore. My throat hurt from trying to cough, and there were tears in my eyes. I didn't make any noise though, so I couldn't notify anyone that I was choking on it. If it wasn't for my mum who got the carrot out of my throat, I would've died.

When I was four, I almost got hit by a car when I ran across the street to play with a stray dog. The dog was a yellow lab, taller than I was if I remember correctly. There was dirt matted in it fur, and its ribs were visible from not getting enough to eat. I had only wanted to help it, many  take it home and keep it even. I wasn't paying attention when I stepped into the streets, I was only paying attention to the dog across from me. If it wasn't for my older brother who grabbed my arm to stop me, I would've died.

When I was five I fell head first into the tiny pool my parents got for me to play in, it was only about two feet deep but I still couldn't get out of the water myself. I,was really excited to finally get to use it, since the sun had come out and it was probably around 80°. I ha  run straight outside, not telling anyone that I was planning on swimming, and tripped over the side. It was a weird sensation, not being able to get any air. Like choking on the carrot, only I could breathe in. I had started to see black spots and could no longer breathe in anymore. If it wasn't for my dad, who had walked outside to use the barbecue and saw me struggling in the water and rushed to pull me out, I would've died.

For a couple years, nothing bad really happened to me. I mean I still got bruises, cuts, I got colds and the flu a couple times, but nothing life threatening in a way. My parents had decided that I was just a clumsy child, prone to accidents. As I got older, I had started to forget about these incidents. My mind started to fill with thoughts of course work, friends, and of course, girls.

When I was eleven, I had a crush on the girl named Marcy. She had beautiful black hair that flowed down her back in ringlets, big green eyes that reminded me of the forest, and soft, tan skin.

I remember one day when we had played together at recess on the swings. She sat on it and I pushed her really high, making her giggle and babble on about how strong I was.

We became good friends after that, hanging out whenever we could, after school included. Our parents would coo at us and take pictures of us when we were snuggled together watching movies on the couch. Then one day when we were about twelve she stopped taking to me and started hanging out with girls more.

I didn't mind at first, she could be friends with whomever she wanted. I couldn't control that. Eventually, she ignored me completely. I followed her around like a lost puppy, soaking up any attention I would get from her, even if it was a disinterested  glance.

Finally one day, she told me we weren't friends anymore and that she never wanted to see me again. She told me she hated me and never wanted to see me again. I couldn't figure out what I had done wrong. I had only complimented the hair clip she was wearing. It was a sparkly pink flower that matched her personality perfectly.

I went home that night in tears, and sobbed into my mum's chest until I feel asleep. It wasn't very manly of me, especially at my age, but she was the only friend I had. At least, the only one I wanted to have.

When I went to school the next day I had tried to talk to her. I had come to the conclusion last night that she was having a bad day yesterday. I only wanted to check on her, let her know if she ever needed someone to talk to, she could talk to me. She had only yelled at me again, to the point to where I ended in tears, then teasing me for being a baby and crying. I was never interested in girls after that experience. Eventually I found new friends, two boys named Conner and Finn.

By the time I was thirteen, I noticed I didn't look at girls the same way I used to. I no longer had crushes on them, and I didn't have any interest in them. I mean, I'm not sayin' that girls are ugly or anything. Not at all. Girls are beautiful, sweet, and caring, but I just don't like them in that way. I finally realized one day at a football game that I liked guys. I've had a crush on Conner , the captain of the football team, for about two years now.

Even though I haven't seen him for about a year and a half, my heart still flutters every time I think of him. His hair, his eyes, his laugh. He'd never like me though. Maybe before what I refer to as 'the incident', but not anymore.

Looking back on all this now, I've decided that I'm meant to die younger than most. My family just happened to come in the way of fate. There's no way they can stop me from dying now. They can only pray and hope for a miracle.

And also looking back on the Noah thing, it was stupid of me to react the way I did upon finding out I was gay. It's not that big of a deal, but I was scared then.

Scared of people finding out, scared of getting teased, scared of what Noah would think. Scared of what everyone would think. I was scared of it ending out like in the books or movies, where the gay boy got teased and harassed everyday for something he couldn't change. I didn't want to be known as the "disgusting gay boy". I wanted to be known as Niall, the teenage boy that played footie for fun.

Looking back on all this, I realize it was all stupid. It wouldn't have mattered if me and Marcy remained friends. If I came out to everyone at school. If I had asked Noah out. It wouldn't have mattered if I had died at the age of three, or four, or five. I was gonna die now.

And I think I'm okay with that.