Cough Syrup[UPDATING VERY SLOW]

Chapter 2 c:

Mag: I'm very sorry if it's short. Shana (the other writer) and I have writers block .______. Enjoy

My dreams were usually picture-less, sometimes a solid color or mixed, almost always surrounded by sounds. I had trouble recalling most of them, which didn't bother me because many times they were terrifying. It was different tonight--I could remember it all. My father was being killed right in front of my eyes. Pleading. Bullets. Blood. His warm eyes turned soulless and his body went cold. Then, it all turned to black--a deafening, blinding black. Guns could be heard from everywhere, loud and piercing. My ears rang with their booming shots ricocheting throughout my mind. I screamed for my dad but he was nowhere. I was nowhere. Suddenly, there was screaming, a building pressure in me, and just so much screaming--

My eyes snapped open. The house was noiseless. My brother and mom were most likely working by now. Getting out of bed, my alarm started blaring. I jumped at the sudden noise, heart pounding, and I quickly turned it off. It was 7 a.m.--time for a shower. I stumbled down the hall and into the bathroom. Kicking off my clothes and stepping into the shower, everything that had happen yesterday flooded back to me. The cold water hit my back, shampoo entering my hair and the familiar stinging in my eyes. My emotions were at an all-time high and I couldn't hold them back anymore. Tears came roaring down my face, fast and endless.

I missed my dad so much it hurt. He'd gone to war about four years ago and killed in a raid a year and half after being deployed. My chest constricted and images of the night we found out, his funeral, and the long days afterwards came rushing back. After 30 minutes or so, I pulled in a deep breath and climbed out. I took care of the usual morning necessities and changed into sweats and an oversized sweatshirt. I combed my tangled curls and went down to the kitchen, happily surprised with a McDonald's breakfast of pancakes and a sausage biscuit. I smiled and gobbled it all down in a mere 3 minutes.

Suddenly, I could hear my phone ringing faintly in my room and I dashed to get it.

"Hello?" I said into the phone. I didn't recognize the caller or the number.

"Is this Rosemary?" said a familiar voice. My heart fluttered.

"Zayn?"

"Umm.. yeah. How are you Rosie?" Ooh, a nickname...

I yawned and replied, "I'm good, and you?"

"Were you sleeping? I'm sorry, I just wanted to know something...," Zayn sounded upset and from the distance, Louis yelled "Awww! He won't be able to take his mistress out!"

There were muffled sounds and a yelp from the other end. "She's not my mistress!" He yelled back. Then, a deep sigh. "Sorry about that," he muttered.

I laughed, "It's alright. No, I'm not sleeping, Zayn. What do you want to know?" I asked curiously, taking a seat at my desk.

" Do you want to... you know go--" He was cut off by Louis.

"He wants to go on a date with you!! Ooooh," he cooed and cackled. My heart began to race.

I rolled my eyes and smirked at Louis' antics before speaking loud enough for the older boy to hear. "HUSH, LOUIS! What is it, Zayn?"

Louis made an offended sound in the background and Zayn laughed. "Loser," the Bradford boy mumbled, before clearing his throat. "Er, can you come with me to buy some things?"

My heart slowed down and I frowned. "Uh...Sure Zayn," I complied, skepticism lacing my words.

"Great! I'll pick you up in a couple minutes!" He said excitedly and hung up. I grinned, slightly happy to be spending the day with THE Zayn Malik. But, my smile didn't last long. A couple minutes. I looked down at my current outfit and threw myself into my closet, changing into a purple shirt, not bothering with my black sweatpants. 3 minutes later, after putting my hair into a bun, and packing my bag with everything I'd need, I was ready in record time. Right when I grabbed my keys, the doorbell rang.