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Midnight Memories

Where Are You Niall?

"Jes, I'm over here." "Where?" Niall's voice was so close to me, but I just couldn't pinpoint its exact location. I move closer to the sound of his voice. Harry and Liam followed me with confusion written all over their faces. "Where on Earth are you, Nialler?!?" Harry shouted. "I don't know, but it's dark down here!!!" "How can you not know where you are???" "Well, let's see. I passed out when this huge cement block hit my head...Oh wait, do you have meds?" "Liam do you have meds?" Liam raised an eyebrow. "Harry, I don't have meds!" "What about the ones for your kidney?" "First of all, my kidney is now okay, next of all, the kind of meds Niall may need are painkillers, not kidney stuff!" While the two boys argued, I was trying to figure out where on earth that blue-eyed 20-year old was. Suddenly, the floor beneath me rumbled, as if some sort of monster was hiding down there. Harry let out a cuss word and grabbed Liam who grabbed me. I stumbled, not being able to handle the weight of the two boys who were both almost a foot taller than me. In my struggle for balance, I landed on the wall-only it wasn't a wall. I closed my eyes as I fell with Liam and Harry down the garbage chute.

SQUISH!!! My hand hit something really soft... and wet. I opened my eyes, surprised. "Ew, it smells in here!" Harry said. "Well this is a garbage chute. Of course it smells!" Came Liam's reply. "Ugh. I feel like I'm gonna be sick." "No don't!" Liam and I said in unison. I began to search frantically for some sort of exit. There was definitely one, I thought, basing my judgement on the muffled sound of Niall's voice that somehow penetrated the metal surrounding us. Suddenly, I heard Liam shout. "OHMIGASH, I FOUND THE...Oh ****" "LIAM!!!" Harry and I said, rushing to the dimly-illuminated outline of Liam Payne. "I'm fine!" Liam shouted back. "I just hit my head on a wooden thing. Probably a door. Ungh." Harry and I rushed over to help Liam. "I think if we push this hard enough it will give way," Liam explained gesturing to the light brown thing in front of us. We pushed and pushed until it finally gave way and broke. Darkness greeted us on the other side of the door. It was quiet, eerie, save for the fact that someone's stentorian Irish voice was echoing through it. "-ME, CAN'T YOU?" "NIALLER!!!" I shouted. "WHERE ARE YOU?" "I SHOULD BE THE ONE ASKING THAT!" "I'M SORRY, WE COULDN'T HEAR YOU EARLIER!" Suddenly, a bright light enveloped the room. My heart skipped a beat until I turned and saw Harry with a flashlight. "Maybe you should hold this," he said to me. I took the flashlight from him and led the way into the dark hole. "NIALL, WHERE ARE YOU?!?" I shouted. "HERE!!!" came Niall's reply, somewhere to the left. I shone the flashlight in the direction of his voice and discovered a giant hole, perhaps the ventilation. Taking a closer look, I saw a ladder with missing rungs. I turned to Liam who was right behind me." "I'll catch you if you fall," he said with a playful smile. "Me too," came Harry's reply, which sounded as if he had just been sick. I nodded and scaled the ladder carefully followed by Liam and Harry.

As a beam of light from the flashlight illuminated the room, it became apparent that this was not a place for the living, unless you were a doctor. "Niall?" I said softly, scanning the room for the Irish lad. "HERE!!!" Was his stentorian reply from somewhere nearby. I followed his voice and horrified myself by unintentionally shining the flashlight on a silver plaque.

Niall James Horan, 20 years old, good friend and companion.

Oh fudge, no. Niall isn't dead. I mean, that was his voice I heard, right? I could hear Liam sobbing, unable to control his fear of death, but trying to tell himself that Niall was most definitely alive, that it wasn't just he who could hear Niall shouting. My heart was pounding harder than ever as we continued down the corridor of dead people. "Niall's not dead, Niall's not dead, Niall's not dead..." Half my brain told me. "He is dead. His voice is just an illusion." The other half of my brain told me. For some reason, I feared that death had somehow found Niall whilst we were with Louis. I wanted to see him, to touch his porcelain skin and run my fingers through his tousled hair. I wanted to feel every bit of his life, the radiant energy that only Niall possessed, to believe that he was not dead. Suddenly, I found myself staring at the illuminated figure of an angel with a long white gown and gentle features. One small problem: this angel had this expression of absolute anger on his face, an expression that was oh so unusual for an angel-a human expression. "NIALL!!!" Harry, Liam and I said in unison, running towards him. My heart started beating merrily as the blue-eyed Irish boy turned in our direction.