Kidnapping Zayn Malik: Mission Impossible ➳ Ziam AU

Chapter 1

(hello this is a note from future ella of the year 2016 i would just like to forewarn anyone about to read this or for that matter a n y of my stories that, well just. dont. they're so. bad like im not even kidding i gagged just reading like 1 sentence of this. please dont read them they're unrealistic and have terrible grammar spelling and just anything lack any goodness at all. i wrote all these stories when i was like 12. please save yourself the mind-numbing horror of reading any of my stories. p l e a s e. and to answer the question why dont i just delete them if they're that bad, oh, i have. you haven't seen some of the worst ones lmao. my deleted drafts are filled with nightmares. and also i just want to keep cringy memories of simpler times. anyway. fun talk. stay healthy everyone)

Okay Guys! just a quick side note, In this story Zayn is a famous solo artist (Well, kinda famous, Youtube famous, anyway) Niall, Liam, Louis and Harry are all not any kind of famous, Zayn is the only (kinda) famous one in this.

Also, dedicated to @hashtag_cupcakewave for the beautiful cover! Thank you, xx.

Enjoy! x

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I breathed heavily, tears forming in my dimmed hue eyes.

It was getting darker, and a cold breeze was harshly blowing around. There were shards of glass all over, and I could start to feel a pool of liquid surrounding my small, huddled up body.

It wasn't supposed to be like this! we were supposed to go to Granny's and have her special tea there, and play in her big back garden for as long as I wanted, but then it all happened so fast, there was blood, screams, glass, then it was just cold, and dark... and my arm hurt really badly.

I gently dipped my finger in the liquid, to see what it was, and lifted my pinkie back up to my face.

Cold.

Red.

Blood.

I let out a little sob, and quickly wiped my hand on the fuzzy rug of the car floor.

If I wasn't bleeding, and I knew I  wasn't bleeding... Then.. They must be bleeding...

"Mama?" I whispered out into the darkness, my child like voice cracking horribly in fear.

Nothing...

"Papa?"

Silence.

My little face crumpled into a million pieces as my face dropped down onto my knees, painful sobs leaving my mouth, and tears easily slipping down my baby-soft cheeks.

I sniffled,  tears still dripping out my eyes, and struggled to get up. My little 5-year old legs toddled their way over the broken bits of glass, over the teared bits of leather of the seats, and through the litttle gap in between the 2 front seats, trying to get to my Mama and Papa.

"Mama? Papa?" I whispered.

I looked over at the two front seats, where my parents should be, happy and smiling, with open arms, ready to share their love with me.

But they weren't.

They were there, but my Mama had her face all mushed up and covered in blood, all in the wrong place, her arms and legs were all bent in weird angles, and her eyes  were shut..

My Papa was a pale colour, almost green, nothing like his  usual tanned colour. He was covered in blood, and blood was still seeping out of his body. I  looked at his  chest, and it was teared straight open, down the middle, all his flesh on show.