**H**

I folded the paper and began to make my decent down to the second floor of the house. As soon as I opened my door, however, I heard something I didn't really expect. It was Rebecca. I carefully approached her door, but was about to knock when I was interrupted.
"Things like this don't just happen!" she screamed. "What did I do wrong!" I could practically feel the searing hot tears on her face. I've been there. Those hot tears that must have been streaming down here cheeks leaving them to feel raw and sensitive yet couldn't get herself to stop. She paused for a moment.
"I was obedient, I prayed every night... why?! Why them? Why not me? Why am I the one living!That should be me lying six feet under, do you hear me? That should be me! They did so much wrong, God, but to kill them off?! Why? I thought you were forgiving!!! Why am I left here!" I Heard a loud thump against the wall. "Why God? Why did you take them?" Now her voice was muffled.
I do not really know how long I had stood outside her door. Nor do I know exactly when Rebecca had gone quiet, but she did at some point.
As carefully as I could, I opened her door. She was sitting in the corner, her arms wrapped around herself as her forehead rested on her knees. I paused for a moment, unsure of what to do. I half expected for her head to shoot up and yell at me. But she didn't. She stayed perfectly still.
I made my way over to her cautiously, thinking that perhaps she didn't hear me at first, and quietly called her name. She was unresponsive. Kneeling down, I tapped her lightly on the shoulder. Rebecca let out a soft moan as she situated herself deeper into the corner. She had fallen asleep. I didn't really know what it was about her, but my heart had softened a little more for her. I finally saw her face. And it was something that I can't quite fully explain. Rebecca had dark eyebrows that were thicker than most, but not over done. Her eyes were shut and her lashes curled out to rest delicately on her cheeks, which were a light shade of rose, which blended nicely with her caramel skin. Her upper lip was thinner while her bottom lip was plumper and turned down into almost a pout. She had strands of hair hanging in her face, but for the most part, she was stunning... How can someone so beautiful be in so much pain?
I picked her up carefully, and laid her down on her bed. Folding up the sweatshirt I had given her until I could get her a pillow, I placed it beneath her head, smoothing out her hair and brushing it away from her face. Rebecca curled into it, emitting a faint moan as she did so. I went out to the hall closet and got her a blanket and covered her up, placed the letter I had written just past the door and closed it behind me.
She was so precious. Too precious.
"You've already grown attached to her, haven't y'?" I hear from behind me. I spun around to find Niall standing behind me. "You should probably just leave 'er to Louis. It'd be best for y'."
"I'm not attached, Horan. I was just..." I let my voice trail as I searched for an explanation that'd get past the astute Irish man before me.
Niall held up his hand. "No need, I am just saying. Last thing y' need is to get in more trouble. Alright?" I nodded. Niall continued down the hall and to his room. I let out a sigh. I needed to keep my distance.
I raked my fingers through my hair and allowed a laboured sigh to fall from my lips as I leaned up against the hall wall.
Rebecca was going to be the end of me.

---

When I awoke, I was lying on the air mattress instead of being curled up in the far corner, a heavy quilt that smelled like mothballs draped over me with that same unfamiliar sweatshirt folded up and placed beneath my head like a pillow.
How long did I lay there? That I wasn't sure of. There was no way to keep track of passing time in that room. My sleep schedule had been thrown off as well because of my lack of knowledge of time.
Time had no value, not anymore. It was just another word. What was the point in keeping track of it? I wasn't going anywhere. I had nothing to look forward to, nothing to count down to. Nothing.
When I had finally brought myself to open my eyes (which I had to do so slowly) I saw something I hadn't noticed before. Beside the bed was an old wooden bedside table with a brass table-top surface. Sitting in the middle was a single white candle and a book of what contained about five matches.
Tears began to build behind my heavy-lidded eyes and I sniffled before bringing myself to a sitting position. I felt so sick I was practically trembling. I was starving in every sense of the word. It was by choice, however, it still felt very real.
I stole another glance around the room, my eyes scanning over the night stand and the boarded up windows and the grey-washed wooden wall and faded brick wall oposite of it that had long lost its brilliance so many years ago before they finally rested on a foreign object just past the crack under the door.
Slowly, I slid my legs over the edge of my mattress and placed my feet on the floor's abrasive surface. I waited a moment. I didn't want any of them to know that I was up considering that someone had come and put me in the bed already. I had no desire to see any of them.
When I was sure none of them were close, I stood from the bed and crept towards the edge of the door. I knelt down and picked up the folded piece of crumpled paper. I continued sitting on my knees, I debating with myself.
What more could they possibly want? What else was there to take away?
Suddenly, I felt a surge of anger flood my veins. I was furious. Livid.
I scoffed at the piece of paper I was holding in my lap. Maybe I won't read it. Maybe I'll just slide it back under. Maybe I'll just starve myself and die in this room because it's not like there was a better option for me, anyway. I was bound to die one way or another.
But what did it say?
I suppose curiosity had gotten the best of me because despite my anger I opened it anyway. Swallowing the angry sobs that had begun to resurface was something bitter. I wasn't even allowed to possess what little dignity I owned. I was stripped of that as well.
And their writing was something awful, as well. It was sloppy and the graphite was sprawled out between the blue printed line almost illegibly.
"Dear Rebecca,
I know this is going to take some time to process. But, since Louis promised you answers, I'm now promising you safety. I'm sorry that these past few months have been rough for you, and I wanted to just say that I get it. So many things have been thrown at you and too much is happening all at once that you've become frustrated and overwhelmed. That people promise you that everything will be okay as if they can see the future or something. They can't promise something they can't give or make happen, they shouldn't do something like that. I'm not here to make promises I can't, or don't intend to keep. I promised you safety and I can assure you I will try my damned hardest to keep true to my words...
I won't tell you the things you want- or don't want- to hear. What I will tell you is this: as strange as it may sound, as unbelievable as it may sound... I understand. I do. We are more alike than I'm willing to admit. We are more alike than you are willing to accept.
I'm no good with my words, I apologize. Just try not to hate me, or yourself, or the boys, or your situation... it was inevitable, I'm afraid. I don't expect forgiveness, but patience would be greatly appreciated. And once again, I'm sorry. You will get your answers, I promise. I don't break my promises.
If you wish to keep communicating, writing me a letter is a great way to do it, whether it's filled with curses or secrets, that is up to you.
Yours,
H. " I rolled I eyes. After procuring a pencil I had found in the drawer of the nightstand, I quickly and angrily scrawled on the back of the paper:
"I'm tired of these cryptic messages and vague answers. Tell me everything or tell me nothing, it's all the same to me. I don't care anymore. I'm dying in this dusty old room in this godforsaken house anyway."
I shoved it under the door and went back to the corner, facing the wall and being angry. This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. All of this was completely ridiculous.

---

Notes

Hey, so long time no write, huh? Sorry guys, I've actually been reading this good fanfic on wattpad called Aesthetics and its soooooo good! I can't remember the author's name but the fluff is just too much for my poor lil' fangirl heart!
With love guys
Rock on and stay awesome!
-Allanys