One Direction: Second Sight

Find out what happens when you mix terrorists, One Direction, a Horan family reunion , a suicidal young man and mysterious lights around the world. It's a spooky thrill ride. Featuring Louis and Liam plus an original charcter ( don't worry, Zayn, Harry and Niall are there too, plus Simon Cowell). Rated a strong PG 13 for language, violence and limited sexual situations. Not slash per say but strongly bromantic.


3. Bad Vibes

Chapter Three




As usual, the trip to Memphis was boring, to me at least. I've never cared a whole lot about going there even at the best of times. I mean, I barely knew most of my dad's mothers family. My grandmother passed away three years before I was born and my dad said that that side of the family was way too into each others business for him. To be honest, and not trying to speak ill of the dead, they all seemed slightly snooty to me. especially for people whose own parent were dirt poor. I mean, I"m not a psycho, I wish the accident hadn't taken them away. But at the same time, I was only close to like six people out of the whole three dozen or so of them.

The old man stays silent from the time we get on Nonconnah until we turn onto Airways, heading towards the airport. Well , almost silent. He cusses the GPS a few times. I've never understood why he needs a GPS in Memphis. It's not like he hasn't been to the airport here a dozen times that I know of. Eventually, we get there and he leaves the car parked. he's arrainged for a charity for deaf children to get his Envoy as a donation in his cousing Judith's name. She was close to him and my grandmother and he has no way to put the thing in storage indefinitely anyhow. I was accepted to the college at the same time he was hired so it's not like we're going to be going back and forth that often.

After the usual hour long trip through security, getting the fortunately sparse carry on crap handled and all, we start on the first leg of the trip. A short hour later, we're in Orlando, waiting for the connecting flight, an Aer Lingus to Dublin. THe first thing I do is turn on my phone. I hate not being able to play games or browse because of stupid flight regulations. I'm just on the verge of asking him what the devil Aer Lingus actually means when my phone vibrates for the first time since we left the house. To my immense surprise, it's my best friend, who hasn't spoken a civil word to me in almost three weeks. Before I can touch the phone, a dozen more text arrive almost simultaneously. This is not a good sign.

Nate Muhundro is my best friend, brother and at times even my guy soulmate. There's times when I couldn't have made it if not for him. We've been all but inseperable for thirteen years. he even introduced me to Kelly, the girl I would have happily married way too damn young. And he was there when I lost he, the worst thing I ever went through in my life. Even worse , on a personal level, than losing my whole family in the explosion. He stood by me though it all. Unfortunately, he's also right up there in my class as far as bad luck goes.

We had a mutual friend, Tyler. Nate was even dating his sister for a while. We all got to be really close last year. We went swimming almost obssessively. We drove all over the Natchez Trace. Hiked, went to concert. Parties. And then , s tragic accident changed it all . Nate and Ty were target shooting with Tylers fourteen year old brother James. Nate had spent the night there and we were suppossed to be meeting that afternoon. He and Ty went in to throw some clothes in the dryer. James had went in first and laid his gun, cocked and loaded on the laundry room table because he had to run to the bathroom. Tyler was on one side of the table and Nate was on the other. Nate went to reach to the dryer and tripped over a chairleg in the cramped room. He slapped his hand down on the table and managed to hit the trigger. Tyler took a twelve gauge blast straight to the abdomen from four feet away. He died less than two minutes later screaming "Why" at Nate. Nate was never the same person again.

The next three months were horrible. His parents meant well, but they were scared as much of him as for him. And it's hard to blame them. Nate is a big guy. Six foot and two hundred pound of solid muscle. He was obssessed with becoming a MMA fighter. He's been planning and training for it for five years. And he's great at it. I've had the bruises to prove it because nojthing would suit him but for me to train with him. The idea of actually loving to fight is foreign to me, but he's born for it. And his mood swings were off the charts. Holes punched in wall, car windows and people. I saw him atttack five guys at one time and it took me and two others to keep him from killing two of them.

He finally settled down somewhat after Sierrra, Tyler's sister, told him she forgave him, that it was an accident and that her brother James was just as guilty and that no one blamed him either. eventually, they fell back in and three weeks ago, he informed me that she was six weeks pregnant. I think he thought I'd be happy, considering our history. He was wrong. I told him in no uncetain terms that he was a idiot for knocking Sierra up. That he was 19 and she wasn't quite eighteen yet. Words followed and we finally got into a knockdown dragout of a fight at my house. We destroyed the living room, dining room and totalled the front door too. It took both of our dads and four cops to break the fight up. Even now, three weeks later, my left hand has two bruised knuckles and my black eye is just now finally faded enough so I don't wear shades.

Call me. Call me as soon as you get this. Please call. It's about Sierra. Call damn you. You fucking bastard call me. And the texts just get worse. I get a feeling like cold lead in my stomach as I try to think of the least gruesome possiblitites as I try to call. But it's no use. My signal strength is wavering badly . I can hear it dialing, but no pick up on the other side. All of a sudden, I"m practically blinded by white light coming in from the skylights. I squint until my eyes are all but shut as I hear other treavellers cry out. I stumble into a bench when I feel a strong hand grip my arm.

" Son, sit down before you walk into something, " Dad tell me, guifing me onto the bench. " I wonder what on earth is causing these weird lights. It's on every news outlet," he adds, pointing up at a nearby monitor in front of a KFC stand. " No one has an explanation, but it's happening all over the world." He stands up , looing up at the flatscreen for a few more seconds before turning back to me, visibly concerned. " What's wrong? You're pale as a ghost and you were before that flash of light. That's why I came back over."

I hesitate for a moment . He's not thrilled over mine and Nate's fight. Oh, he doesn't have any animosity towards him, just the opposite. he considers him a nephew. But he doesn't approve of teenage pregnancies, I can tell you. I hand my cell over to him. " Read this , " I tell him resignedly.

He fumbles with it a bit. He hates cell phones, especially touchscreen ones. His own is at least five years old, an old Pantech flip phone thats so tiny he can and has clipped it under his beltbuckle . How he keeps it running I don't know. His face goes blank for a minute as he starts reading, then goes slightly red. He reaches his arm out to me , holding my Iphone like you would a dead mouse. " You better call him and see what's going on. You'd never forgive each other if anything happened to Sierra or the baby and you two were still fighting and you know it, " he says, a tone of command in his voice. He leans back, propping on the black metal bench, reaching up with a tan hand to run his finers nervously through his hair as he adds, " and it's not like he hasn't been there for you plenty of times when you were an emotional wreck, ".

I fight back a quick retort born of a flash of anger. I hate it when people tell me things I already know. " I've tried twice, one a minute ago and right now, " I hold it up so he can see it's on speaker, " but the damn signal keep going from one bar to none. I can't get through." I shrug my shoulders as he looks at me. " I'd talk to him if I could." I scuff my feet on the tan floor tiles as he replies.

" I know. I just hate seeing you boys feuding. Anyway, accoring to the news, these lights are playing havoc with cell reception. It's not effecting the flights though. We've got to get moving. Our plane is actually leaving on time. Whatever Nate wanted , it'll have to wait until we get to Ireland. Good thing I added international calling to your phone so you could reach out to him, now isn't it, " he asks rhetorically, a quick grin on his face. That's my dad . I'm amazed he hasn't already intervened ; he hates drama. He wants me and the one close friend I have actually speaking to each other.

I try one more time as we walk towards our gate but get nothing. Maybe I'll have better luck across the Atlantic.

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