Over Again

Jenna's POV

Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
"The person you have dialed can not take your call. Please leave a message after the tone."
Beep.

Shit. Why can't Lou pick up his fucking phone? I just told him what happened, and he storms out. Is he okay? Why the hell did he do that? He can't just fucking leave after something like that. I get that he's angry, feels bad, but I went through it didn't I, and I'm okay! It's been three days. Three entire days, and I haven't heard from him. From any of the boys really. Are they seriously shitting me right now? ANd I'm not gonna go to their house to make the first move. No fucking chance. he should be saying sorry. I can be kind, but how can I just tell him something like that, and expect him to just leave me hanging? He told the rest of the boys too probably. I just KNOW it.
Know what, what did I do to deserve this? I can do better. I've tried so hard all my life, and had it actually pay off. Then they come, and suddenly my life is in ruins. I go through an accident, my parents die, I get raped, and am left with no friends. Even Chloe and Ash can't speak to me, Chloe has really strict parents, and apparently, I'll have a bad influence on her. Right.
And somehow, they managed to rub off on Ash's parents as well. Fucking shit.
It'd be amazing to just get away from it all- to have a fresh start. Nobody knowing who I am, what I went through, feeling sorry, or whatever shit my life has turned into in the past year. I never swore this much, but fucking hell, I have the god damn right to after all of this.
---
Before I know it, I have 14 suitcases lined up against the creamy wall of the dining room, my chest heaving, and a light sheen of sweat covering my forehead. I was leaving. I pulled out my Macbook Air from my Superman bag in the corner of my room, and looked for tickets to get out. I wanted nothing to do with this place, just to escape. But where?
They had to speak English, otherwise I would have to deal with a new language on top of living alone at my age, and it would be a pile of shit. It also needed to be a proper city, not like the country- shops, people, things I knew. Suddenly, an idea came to mind.
London.
---

I quickly scanned the house for anything. My Godmother had already approved of my move, saying that she would handle everything, that she understood my need to get out of everything. It was two days after. Five days since I'd had contact with Niall, Liam, Harry, Zayn, Louis, Ash and Chloe.
The cab honked impatiently. Ugh. As I finally managed to fit in my 14 suitcases in the giant cab that I had called, I got in the shotgun seat, next to a very old, impatient man, who smelled slightly like nicotine and cigarettes. Instinctively, I had moved to the farther edge of the seat, leaning against the door as we drove silently to the airport. An old country song came out of the radio at a low volume, the speakers old and rusty, the music muffled, although slightly recognizable. As I heard the relaxing melody of the mouth organ and piano, it instantly comforted me.


It's nine o'clock on a Saturday
The regular crowd shuffles in
There's an old man sitting next to me
Makin' love to his tonic and gin

He says, "Son, can you play me a memory
I'm not really sure how it goes
But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man's clothes."

La la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum

Sing us a song, you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody
And you've got us feelin' alright

Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
He gets me my drinks for free
And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke
But there's someplace that he'd rather be
He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me."
As the smile ran away from his face
"Well I'm sure that I could be a movie star
If I could get out of this place"

Oh, la la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum

And the waitress is practicing politics
As the businessmen slowly get stoned
Yes, they're sharing a drink they call loneliness
But it's better than drinkin' alone

Now Paul is a real estate novelist
Who never had time for a wife
And he's talkin' with Davy, who's still in the Navy
And probably will be for life

Sing us a song you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well we're all in the mood for a melody
And you got us feeling alright


It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday
And the manager gives me a smile
'Cause he knows that it's me they've been comin' to see
To forget about life for a while
And the piano, it sounds like a carnival
And the microphone smells like a beer
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
And say, "Man, what are you doin' here?"

Oh, la la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum

Sing us a song you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well we're all in the mood for a melody
And you got us feeling alright

The voice of Billy Joel and rhythm of the song that I had known since childhood came to a soft end, I had become more confident of my decision to move- more relaxed. I'd had some good and bad memories here, but I had to move on, going with the flow. Life.
It was deep, and for the first time, I could relate to the song, and understand it. I paid the cab driver, who kept up his uptight and rude attitude, but I ignored it, and he drove away. To my surprise, he insisted to bring the trolleys and load the bags. Turns out he was actually extremely humble, his smile something that made your heart warm. As I struggled with my two trolleys, both of them piled high with bags so that I could barely see, my height not doing much to help the matter, I finally made it to the check-in. I found myself regretting my decision to wear flip flops for comfort with my outfit, as I nearly ran either of the trolleys over my toes. I stood in line, examining myself in the reflecting glass on my left side, clad in a white crop top with my owl necklace, paired with my dark blue shorts and red converse. My almost black, but still brown hair was flowing down to the middle of my back, some of the layers framing my face. I had finally worn mascara, and a little bit of foundation as well. No matter what my parents said, I had matured in the past year, going through that pile of shit had made me. I had changed, and that showed. I had changed. And with that, I shortly found myself sitting in the plush chair of the flight, flicking through my phone and deleting all my social media and my contacts.
I was starting new.

Niall POV
"JENNA!", Liam and I screamed in unison upon entering her house with our spare key, Harry, Zayn and Louis at our heels. We'd been looking for hours, where was she? We'd come here, to the mall, to Ash's house, to Chloe's house- everywhere we could think of. And now we were back. It wasn't until now that we had decided to man up and actually look for her. To help her, to comfort her. We though that we should give her space. Louis and Zayn had been completely against the idea, but we needed to let her breathe. Louis told us that she had told him in his words,"She's been fucking raped, I felt guilty, angry, and I fucking left her there. And now? Yeah, I'm just gonna leave her. Give her space. Yeah right. I'm supposed to fucking help her through all this!"
Zayn had immediately seconded his opinion, while Harry was slightly unsure of what to do- completely baffled. He had barely spoken a word, and I was really worried. However, Liam and I had held our ground. Although we were regretting it now.
"Hello?", we heard a female voice, although not Jenna's. It was higher, and more hoarse- aged. A middle aged woman emerged from the kitchen, clutching a knife in her hand, a worried and sacred expression on her face. It dawned on me that it was Jenna's godmother, Auntie Erika. She seemed to recognize us too, and her grip on the knife loosened, a look of realization and disappointment replacing her previously scared and worried expression.
And then she told us.
"Hello boys. Jenna is... She could deal with it anymore. She left- moved away I mean. I'm sorry."
Moved away? Left? What the fuck is happening?
"I need to speak to her", Lou said, breaking the silence that had cast over us.
"You can't", was Erika's reply.
"What? WHAT? Course I can. I have her number. And I can go find her...", Lou was interrupted by Erika.
"She made me promise not to tell anyone where she was going, and she's deleted her previous numbers. She left, and she's not... She's not coming back", Erika spoke softly, almost disappointed. Before I could even begin to process anything, Lou had walked out the door, after muttering "Fucking hell I can't", on his way out, just as the previously almost silent Harry had walked over to the brick wall as the rest of us stood silent, confused, angry- a mixture of emotions. Then, Harry put his fist through the wall.

Notes