Live. Love. Forget.

Niall Horan has a pretty intense life. He feels responsible for the death of someone so close to him, and there was nothing he could do. What happens when Niall has to learn to move on with life, and forget about the past? Will he learn how to live? Will he be able to love again? And last but not least, is it even remotely possible to forget? (BoyxBoy in future chapters, there will be swearing/drinking/ect you have been warned.)

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2. Down the road

It's been almost a year and a half since the accident, and for the most part, I try to not think about it. My head wanders at night though. To say I had dreams about it, would be an understatement. I had full on nightmares. In group, we talked about things to do to keep our minds off of things like that, and the only thing that came to my mind, was singing. I sang sometimes, but never really full on singing. Always to myself, family, or friends. I wasn't myself, I lost him. He's gone. He left the day, I heard a little girl died. Abuse, was always something I knew about, not first hand or anything, but I had heard stories. They are horrible. All I wanted to do, was save someone. I wanted to be a hero, and I'm not. I let this little girl down. It's my fault a girl died. Why hadn't I noticed sooner? Why didn't I do more? I could've done more. There was so much more that could have been done. And I hated myself for that. 

"Niall, you with me still?" The soft voice rang through my ears, and I snapped out of my thoughts. "Niall?" I lifted my eyes from the floor, into her eyes, and gave her half hearted..who am I kidding? I barely turned the corners of my mouth for that smile. If I can even call it one. "Niall, you haven't said much, are you ok? What on your mind?" My eyes examined the room I was in. I had been in here before, every Monday, Thursday and Friday for the past year and a half to be exact. 

"It would have been her Birthday." I tilted my head down again, and brought my mind through my own thoughts. What exactly was on my mind? The same thing as always. 

"I'm sorry Niall, birthdays are always hard." I nodded in approval, and glanced at the clock. It's only been 15 minutes? Ugh...45 more to go. She was nice, don't get me wrong, but I hated therapy. It was so long. 

"Niall, have you been taking your medication?" I pretended not to hear here, and brought my focus on the clock harder, to where it looked like I couldn't see. "We have plenty of time Niall, please don't ignore me. I'm only trying to help." I couldn't help this anymore. I snapped. 

"Yeah? Well so is everyone else! Niall, take these pills for sleep, Niall these will help with depression, Niall, if you dont take these, you'll have more nightmares! Niall, eat more, take this one for your nausea! I'm sick and tired of people acting like they care! Pills won't help me!" I screamed at Mrs. Ginger, and before I knew it, I was standing. This was bad. I brought my hands up to my head, and lowered myself onto the couch, sitting down. I rocked myself back and forth  trying to remember the exercises we learned in group. 

"Deep breath Niall, in out, in out. Hands to your side...good...ok, now lay down on your back. Close your eyes...ok...breathe...in....out.....in...out..." I was on my back looking at her ceiling. Counting the bumps from the paint. I had a feeling this would result in another hour..it always did. 

"You better now babe?" I started to rise up from my spot on the couch, I nodded my head towards her. 

"Yeah, can I have some tea?" She smiled her sweet smile, and stood up to leave the room. 

I sat there for about 10 minutes, just thinking, just remembering. I miss my old life. I miss when I had friends when people cared. I'm alone now. 

"Niall, here." Her hand outstretched towards me, handing me the tea. my mouth breathed cool air on the hot liquid to cool it down, before placing it against my mouth, and tasting the sweetness over come my mouth. "Niall, I really care about you. I want to help you." 

"You say that to all your patients! It's your job to care!" I didn't yell that as loud as I wanted, in fact, my voice was cracking. 

"Niall, I wouldn't of picked this career, if it wasn't something I wanted to be dedicated to. You worry me. I have a lot of patients, but you are one of the few who I go home thinking about. I am generally concerned with you. If you're not going to take your med's, then there are only 2 other options left." I placed my tea on the table beside me, and I looked up at her. I knew what one of the options were, and that was not exactly something that I needed. All of my doctors and parents already had the talk, and I am by no means "crazy" so the hospital was out of question, unless that out burst could be held against me for evidence..   

"Niall, I would like you to attend these classes." She handed me a white piece of paper, with black lettering typed out on it. 

"Everyday? I'd have to go everyday? That's hardly fair!" Her eyes shot wide open, and I calmed myself down. Maybe classes weren't the worst thing. I looked down at my sheet, and saw the words that would now change my life. 

'There's Hope' 

How bloody original. 

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