Ready, Aim, Fire.

Chapter 3

For those of you that don’t know, I’m the jealous type. I can’t stand when people touch, look, or either breathes around Niall. It’s stupid. I get really possessive. I can’t help it. I’m just afraid someone is going to take Niall and be his for the rest of his life. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let it. As this is going through my head I completely black out. I had no idea what I was doing. I felt my arm swinging back and forth, each time colliding with a solid object.

I felt my body being ripped off the floor. That’s when I came back into reality. I looked down and saw molly bloody from my hits. She stood up immediately and rushed out the door. This isn’t the first time I went a little over board.

I just really hated that bitch. I hated the way she would lock hands with him and literally start making out with him when I was around. I hated the way her teeth smacked together whenever she had something in her mouth. I hated how much makeup she put on. She could be the leading whore at our crack house.

I look down at my hands that were bruised and bloody from my outbreak. I didn’t realize I also had cuts on my arms form her freaking nails that were like daggers. I walked into the bathroom and cleaned off my hands. I noticed my other cuts that I made myself were healing up nice. Now I have an excuse for a while.

I checked myself in the mirror before I left. My face was still a bit red from the anger, which made my emerald eyes stand out a lot. The cuts on my arms were pretty noticeable so I just pushed the sleeves of my black hoodie down over them.

I walked back into the room and Zayn and Niall were both staring at me.

“What?” I snapped. It came out a bit ruder than I intended it to be.

They both immediately looked away. Not wanting me to get even more pissed than I was.

Zayn’s phone rang throughout the quiet room. He answers and after a few seconds he hanged up.

“I have to go; Perrie said one of the whores is getting frisky. See you guys later.” And with that, he was out the door.

Then it was just me and Niall.

“What’s up my sexy beyotch?” he spoke after a few minutes.

I plopped down in the chair next to his hospital bed and propped my feet up on it.

I sighed, “Not much, just running from the police again. How’s your shoulder?”

He looked at it and shrugged, “Not bad, could be worse.”

I nodded my head as an awkward silence filled the room.

The room feels like I’m in freaking Antarctica. I slightly shiver and pull my knees up to my chin, trying to get warm.

Nialls gaze set upon me, a worried expression flashes across his face.

“Hey are you ok?” he questions.

I just sneeze in response, trying not to make it a big deal. But to Niall it is. He reaches forward and places the back of his hand on my forehead.

This is the bad boy that would give up the whole act for me. He couldn’t care less about what happens to him, he just needed me alive. Whenever I’m sick or hurt, it’s the end of the world for him. He acts like I got stabbed 27 times or some shit like that.

“I think you’re getting sick,” he scooted over on his bed making room for me, “Here lay down.”

“Niall I think-“

“Get on the bed before I get up and drag you by your hair.” He tried to keep his face as serious as possible.

I hesitate once more before sitting next to him. He tucks both of our body’s in before turning on the TV. He flipped the channel to a movie called “A million ways to die in the west.”

Towards the middle of the movie I felt my eyes start to droop. Then I crashed.

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Hey guys! Just a warning: next part it's going to have some self harm. So if you don't like that stuff, please don't read or report it. Thank you guys for reading! ILYASM! ~Ke