Last First Kiss [DISCONTINUED]

Drama, Love and One Direction, Hally has what every directioner could ever want, but is it all it's made up to be?


29. Wake Up



The slow drone of the moniter faded away and all I could here was the raspy breath of my love laying on a plastic sheet inside the insanely white room. I was clutching her hands until they ran cold at that point I would immediatly worry and kiss them until the blood is back. My hands grew sweaty and the boys all saw the expression on my face.





The look on Harry's face was intense but mostly the deepest and darkest pain. It hurt me to even look at him, his devotion to Hally was stunning. It felt like Carol and I was just... I don't know. Some sort of thing that never lasts forever, a small, uncomitting relationship. Like an open relationship. I wanted someone who would love me forever, sit with me in an old rocking chair when we're old and someone who would love me for me, not just for Niall Horan from One Direction, the cute irish lad. I could feel my heart pounding beneath my shirt, I was getting way more jealous over Hally and Harry than I ever imagined possible. I didn't fancy Hally, even though she was stunning, and I loved Harry to bits as a mate, but I felt like things should be ended between me and Carol. I found I was biting my nails, worst habit.





"Wake up Hally. Just wake up. I can't stand to see you like this, my hearts frozen in mid drift. Just open your eyes, speak to me."

I clutched her hand tighter and began to throw my head into my hands. She wasn't going to make it. It was getting worse. She did this to herself. You did this.


I threw myself against the thin wall, punching it with despair. Slamming my head against the wall and knocking out as many brain cells as possible. I did this to her. What happened to my right to live? I didn't deserve to live. Her parents would be trying to kill me. My parents would be just so ashamed. I couldn't do that to my mum. I couldn't of done that to Hally.

My fists were hammering the wall, the pain wouldn't go. The pounding in my head was deafening and I felt a strong pair of arms around me,


I roared, struggling to pull away from the grip the person had on my shoulders. Their strength was defying all that was possible. Not only was I a killer, I was weak too.

I fell to the floor in defeat, screaming into the ground and flailing like some sort of physco in a mental ward.





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