Niall’s P.O.V.

I stared out at the passing clouds, hugging my knees to my chest. I had tried calling and texting Aria and Amber, but neither of them answered. It only made me more afraid, that I would be too late. I had left a message for Aria, telling her that I was coming with help. I hoped she had received the message.

I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

The longer she was gone, the worse it got. I had purple bags under my eyes from lack of sleep, and hadn’t bothered to eat more than a few apples and a chocolate bar. My hands shook at the thought of someone else hurting her, and that made me want to kill myself, knowing I wasn’t there to help her.

I was her boyfriend. I was supposed to help her.

Be there for her.

And I wasn’t.

I broke down sobbing, for the fifth time during the flight. Harry and Liam sat beside me, staring at me sympathetically. Harry had been trying to message Amber as well, but she hadn’t returned his calls. Liam didn’t even talk. I guess he was either too tired, or just as devastated as I.

Harry tried to crack a joke or two, something about cupcakes and penguins, but I could barely listen to him, without thinking about cupcakes, which made me think about how much Aria loved sugary stuff. It was just that bad.

I pictured the two of us, lying together in my bedroom, watching movies and laughing at nothing. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, and how dark they became when she cried. I remembered the night on her birthday, where she first told me she loved me. The words sounded so beautiful coming from her. Especially when she said them to me.

I remembered our walk to the London Eye, and how she had convinced me to dance in the rain with her, even when I knew she would catch a cold afterward. I remembered how cute she sounded when her nose was stuffy, and how she craved hot chocolate when she was sick. I felt my skin tingle at the thought of her touch on that one night, that most amazing night of my life.

I missed her.

Louis just texted me. He said Paul is getting some body guards together.” Liam announced. I nodded grimly, before settling back in my dazed state.

A couple of hours later, I found myself going through the pictures I had taken with Aria. She looked so perfect in every single one, whether it was a picture of her lying in bed with a fever, or splashing in the water at the beach with Noah. All these memories of her were driving me insane, only craving to hold Aria in my arms again.

Over and over again, I prayed that she was okay. I prayed that we would find her in time, and that everything would work out. I felt a hand set on my shoulder gently. I turned to see Harry giving me a soft smile.

“We’ll find her, lad. We’ll get her back.”

“How do you know?” I managed, an invisible wall of tears blocking my throat.

“You’ve got to think positive.” Liam answered. “Don’t let yourself down.”

“So you would be happy even if this was Danielle?” I growled, gripping the arm rest. Liam narrowed his eyes at me before sighing loudly.

“No. I never said to be happy. Being happy at a time like this would be cruel. What I’m saying is, you need to think optimistically.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Harry cleared his throat beside me. “Niall, just take a deep breath. Everything is going to be fine.”

I took a deep breath, just to please him, but I was almost one hundred percent positive that everything would not be fine.

As I drifted off to sleep, a reoccurring scene played as a dream.

The sound of Aria’s scream filled the bungalow, drenching me in sudden fear. I jumped off the couch, still half asleep, and stumbled into Aria’ room. She was shaking, her face covered in tears.

“Babe, are you alright?” I shouted, holding my arms out and taking Aria into my arms.

“Don’t ever leave me.” She whispered. “Please.”

“Never.” I said back, kissing her forehead. We stayed in each other arms, until I pulled away, one hand still around her waist, the other hand wiping away her tears.

“Don’t cry, babe.” I whispered, kissing the top of Aria’s head again. We moved so that we were lying next to each other on the bed, my arms still wrapped around her.

“What happened, Ari?” I asked, softly stroking her hair.

“I had a nightmare.” She shuddered, wiping away the occasionally tears.

“About what?” I asked, completely serious.

“About you.”

She told me every detail of her dream, and I sat beside her, not talking, only listening.

“Niall,” she croaked, “promise me you’ll never give your life up for me.”

I bit my lip, turning away. “I promise.”

“You’re lying.” Aria said.

I sighed heavily, looking straight into her eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to live knowing I could’ve done something to save you.”

“I’m not even that important.” she protested, rubbing her eyes.
“Wrong.” I whispered. “You’re my everything.”


My eyes snapped open, expecting to be on the bed in the bungalow with Aria, her in my arms. But then I realized it was only a dream. God. Something was seriously wrong with me. I finally told myself that if I couldn't stop thinking about her, I might as well think good thoughts.

So then, I started thinking about the day Aria and I had got to babysit Noah. I laughed lightly to myself, remembering how he had slapped me, and tried to bite me, let alone burp in my face, while he did nothing of the sort to Aria. He had a natural liking for her.

I remembered how cute Aria had looked when she was trying to get the camera to work so she could video Noah and I, her tongue sticking out as she pressed the wrong buttons followed by a pout.

And then, I recalled Aria taking a picture of the three of us, and how I had accidentally said that we looked like a happy family. Even though I quickly apologized, it was true. I hoped one day that we really would have a picture as a happy family together.

The P.A. system interrupted my thoughts, a loud voice emerging through it. Liam snapped out of his sleep, while Harry looked up from his phone.

“Boys, we will be landing in Seattle, Washington in one hour. Please fasten your seatbelts at this time.”

One little step closer to Aria.

One tiny, little step closer to getting her back.

Just as I was starting to feel a little more hopeful, and a little bit more calm, my cell phone rang. I picked it up, to see the caller I.D. was my mum. Uh oh.

“Hello? Mum?”

“Niall, what is this entire catastrophe I hear of on the news?”

The news?

Aria’s P.O.V.

I could see a bright light. Almost like a sun. Everything seemed brighter here. There were birds and butterflies flying freely, and everyone seemed to be smiling. My hands tingled, and I looked down, realizing I was covered in something red.

Blood.

And suddenly, the picture changed, and I was lying on a cold floor, watching a person being slit at the throat by someone in a hooded cloak. I couldn’t see the killers face. I wanted to help the people in line, who were about to be killed, but I stood there, in the shadows, only able to watch.

Then, the scene changed again, and I saw a blonde boy with striking blue eyes, holding his hand out to me. He was dressed in white and glittered in the peaceful sunlight. He touched my skin gently, and the blood disappeared from my body. My skin now gleamed like his.

“Come with me.” He said.

“No,” I protested, feeling terrified. I didn’t know what this place was.

“Trust me, princess.”
His words seeped in, and suddenly, I was placing my hand in his, and he pulled me through the clouds.

I woke up, hoping I was dead, and in heaven. But soon, my eyes focused and I only saw the broken door my father had kicked down. My mother was again passed out beside me. The sun was shining into the room, but I didn’t feel any brighter or happier. I wished he would just kill me already.

Then, the devil stepped into the room, and I shut my eyes, pretending to still be passed out. I didn’t think I could take another beating. But somehow he seemed to know I was awake, because he punched my arms continuously and I groaned in pain.

He untied me from my chair and dragged me out of the room, which could only mean one thing. He was going to rape me again. For the fourth time. As soon as he threw me onto his bed, I kicked him on the stomach, but he smirked as if it were harmless.

“Nice try, buterrcup.”

His nails dug into my skin, practically ripping me up with his bare hands. Why can’t he just kill me already? And then I realized that if he killed me now, then he wouldn’t be able to torture me like this. He wouldn’t be able to play his little game.

Fuck him.


When my eyes opened again, I was once again strapped to the chair, The area between my legs hurt like hell, and I felt like passing out. But what I saw right afterward infuriated me.

There was my mother, lying on the ground.

With a hole straight through her chest.

I screamed.

He killed her. He shot her right in the chest and killed her. My father fucking killed my mother. What the fucking fuck? And suddenly, I felt the pain that would wedge through if I were to be shot. To see my father, aiming a black gun at me. Preparing to shoot me.

I suddenly didn’t want to experience that anymore.

Blood had soaked her entire shirt, and her face was pale. The worst part was that she had died with her eyes open. Her normally blue orbs had lost their color, becoming pale, just like her face. I hadn’t even got to spend some time and talk to her. Get to know her as a mother. And now she was gone.

But at the same time, I hated the sight of her. I hated that she left me with my father so many years ago, instead of taking me with her. She was so selfish, and I knew she didn’t really love me. She just felt obligated to feel that way because she was my mother.

My body shook, from the temperature of the room, but also from the sight in front of me. I wonder if he had just killed her because he wanted to, or if she had fought against him, or threatened him in some way. Either one was possible.

I gulped, and suddenly I was crying. Amber, and now my mother. I had to stop him before he took me down, too. He already hurt so many people, but I had no way to fight. I was weak, on the verge of losing all my strength.

Not to mention I hadn’t had anything to eat in the past three weeks. But I could no longer hear my stomach growling. I had simply grown used to not having anything to eat. But that didn’t mean my thirst was gone. I craved water right now. So badly. It was a wonder I wasn’t dehydrated.

As if on cue, I began to feel light headed, a mix of exhaustion and pain coming together to battle against me. I felt like I could no longer hold on.

“Niall,” I whispered, wishing he was here. Wishing he would save me. He must have given up by now, if having tried at all. He must’ve have known my father was too strong for him; that my father could kill anyone.

Still, I longed for his touch, or any friendly, loving touch. To feel Niall, hear him, would be everything now. I could see white spots, popping up in my vision, brightening the room. But that didn’t mean anything good. It was as if my muscles had finally failed, and my shoulders slumped, my head hanging low.

I lost consciousness.