Without a Trace (Niall Horan)

If I cry, would you wipe away my tears? If I'm lonely, will you come and comfort me? If I'm broken, would you put the shattered pieces back together? Or would you leave without a word, without a trace.

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2. Memory

My head starts spinning as the memories fore begin to flood my mind. They took over almost immediately after he had said the words, like the calm before the storm. Relentlessly controlling my mind. It's astounding that I forget so much.



Flashback

I walk out the door of the apartment complex, hoping to find a place quiet enough to hear my own thoughts. My parents were arguing again. This time because of all the new expenses the hospitals and doctors offices had laid on them. It was never easy, hearing them yell at each other, seeing as how they were all I really had. The rest of the family, besides my grandmother, wanted nothing to do with us. The reason being that they were all filthy rich whereas my mother, father, and I constantly struggle to make ends meet. Not once though, have any of them offered to help us with our situation. I thought families were supposed to be there for each other no matter what. I guess my definition of the word was way off.

 

I huff and continue to move forward, desperate to just escape. Even if it was just until they cooled down.


"I'm so sorry!" I scream as I run into a blond boy, knocking the two of us down in the process. I had been too wrapped up in my own thoughts to care enough to watch where I was going.

"It's fine. I'm Niall." he says, his accent pointing out that he was foriegn

"I'm Alyson, but I prefer Ally. You're not from here are you?"

"Nah, I'm from Ireland. My family came here to New York to visit my aunt."

 

 

I smile at him, trying extremely hard to hold in the hurt I was feeling. It was all just too much.

 

"Cool, she live in one of those apartments?"

"Yeah, I'm guessing you do to."

"Sure do." I say before quietly adding on "the smallest one in the whole building."

"What was that? Is there something you want to share with someone? You look sad. I'll listen if you want me to."

 

 

I glare at him. So much for being nice, I suppose. I should have known better than to start talking to a stranger.

 

"I'm sorry, I don't feel comfortable with sharing my life story with strangers." I say, walking off.



It goes without saying, that he followed me around until I told him everything, breaking out into tears. It felt good to have someone there to comfort me.




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My eyes widen in shock. How could I have forgotten that? I replay everything over in my head that could've signaled me to forget, but I come up blank.


I remember thinking that I had finally found a friend, but my mind tends to block out all good memories. It's strange, but it doesn't surprise me considering that most of the things that happen to me are always more bad than good. Which is how it always has been. And it's the way it will always be.



"N-Niall, I'm sorry." I say, beginning to cry uncontrollably.

"Don't cry. I'm not going to let you slip away from me this time. Not after what you just did."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I feel like I need to protect you."



Anger suddenly starts to boil inside of me at the words. I was tired of everybody thinking they had to look out for me. To keep me safe. They all look at me like I'm fragile and weak. I may have problems, but I'm stronger than people give me credit for. I'm tired of everyone constantly taking pity on me.


"Damn it Niall, I don't need protecting!" I say, although it came out as more of an animalistic growl.

 

 

The five of them jump back, obviously not expecting my outburst. I didn't know I was capable of it myself.


 

"I don't care. You're going to have to deal with it. I was crazy for months missing you, and I'm not going to let you out of my sight. Especially now that I know what you're capable of doing."



I shiver, for I knew all to well what he meant.



My suicidal issues...

 

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