November // n.h

xix.

               N I N E T E E N

I was supposed to tell him everything. Explain each single misunderstanding and tell him how I felt. Niall deserved the explanation and not from someone else who knew my situation but from myself. He happened to be a good lad. One of them guys that each girl can fall for because he is understanding and he listens carefully. Somehow, throughout all the fame, pressure from the management and fans he is a really good person to talk to and watch a movie with.

And I should be sitting in the small café with him, drinking tea or coffee, whilst explaining to him my situation. Instead, I am sitting behind the counter of a music store that happens to belong to my best friend’s dad, greeting all the people that I know; smiling at them even though they are quietly talking behind my back.

After the whole situation with Niall, everyone happens to look at me with disgust in their eyes. The worst part is that I have no idea why they do so. I mean, even if I was with Niall, I have the right to enjoy my life like everyone my age, yet with a limit because of my grief.

All that I do not understand is the looks. People that have known me for my whole life, people that I even met recently or a few years ago, have the ability to judge me for making a friend. The fact that he is famous doesn’t really matter to me, simply ‘cos I have never properly listened to their music.

I pick up the pencil, and draw squiddly lines on the blank piece of paper lying on the right hand side of the counter. Humming along to the radio, I pay a small amount of attention to what song is playing, until the radio deejay  mentions the name of a specific boy band.

Few words about the coming up single, few more about the new sound and then the song started playing. For the first time today, I have listened carefully to the voices, the words that have been sung just to notice which voice belonged to Niall.

Just after the seconds chorus, I heard a voice that suited Niall perfectly. It was rather delicate and it stood out from the others. When I closed my eyes, and tried to replay the voice in my memory once more, from what I remembered it did suit Niall and maybe, at a point, it was how I imagined his voice to sound like when he’d sing.

A small smile tugs onto my lips, as I carry on drawing little circles on the piece of paper; my mind running away towards one particular person.

He deserves an explanation, but I am just not ready to tell him. I am not ready to see his reaction when I explain how Danny’s death has affected me and how I am still unable to trust anyone. But I am learning. Making a step further within each day because after all, I trusted Niall enough to let him into a part of me and get to know me a little better.

Yet Danny’s death is not something that I have the ability to talk about. He died in an accident that happened to have no explanation. As ridiculous and impossible as that sounds, I have never gotten an explanation to what caused Danny’s death. Maybe it was the motorbike’s fault? Maybe the breaks have failed and the motorbike didn’t stop at all?

I have spent countless nights, trying to figure out what could have caused his death but nothing seemed right. Not a single thought or cause seemed good enough! After all, I wasn’t allowed to see his body after the accident; I wasn’t allowed to say goodbye to him or the least apologise after such an argument.

What could have made it all look so terrible that I wasn’t allowed to say goodbye to him?

Countless nights, my pillow has ended up being flooded with tears but also it has hushed out my sobs from the world. It kept the sobs inside, almost like a tiny safe for small secrets and worries; a tiny locker which I was only allowed to use and place anything inside.