4. Chapter Four
What I saw today was impossible right? It's absolutely impossible! Right? Of coarse. They're dead Chantelle. No way were they in the same room as you. Zayn did not smirk and Louis did not wink. It's just your mind playing games with you. I sat in the back of the van alone as the boys comforted each other. They all cried and sniffled. I envied them. They don't know how hard it is to want to cry and nothing comes and you feel like an idiot for wanting to cry but just can't and you question whether you are mentally okay. Sometimes I don't even feel human. We pulled up to a stop light. I looked out the window. Oh. My. Gosh. There they are! They began walking towards the van. The sound of blaring sirens came and the emergency vehicles zoomed by. When they passed the boys had disappeared. Oh. Something was wrong. Twice in one day. "Uh Liam." I whispered. He turned around his eyes puffy. Should I really bring up them up? The other two had turned around to see what was going on.
"I-uh, I'm sorry." I choked. "For what?" Harry questioned. "I'm sorry f-" I cut myself off as I saw it. There he was. Zayn was in the car next us. He had a sick smirk on his face as he stared up at me. I froze as the truck beside him swerved into him, sending his car drifting, right in front of us. His face was bloody as he smiled at me. Paul turned hard, I flew right into the car door, hitting my head. I gasped at the impact as we swerved again scratching our car on a nearby light post. Paul stopped the car. "That was scary." Harry breathed.
That's when the car door opened and Zayn started to walk towards us. "Oh my." Paul whispered. Did he see him too? Zayn came closer and closer. A smirk on his face. His bloody hand touched my window. I screamed. He banged on it. Tears streamed down my face as I screamed, I wasn't ready for this. "Chance. Calm down." Harry cooed. "He's gonna kill me!" I cried. Paul rolled down the window. I stumbled over to the other side of the van. I closed my eyes.
"How can we help ya mate?" Paul asked. "Well, uh-" he had a southern accent. I opened my eyes to find a man in a plaid shirt and a cowboy hat upon his head. His face had a few cuts and not as bloody as Zayn's was. "I was wonderin' if" I stopped listening. That wasn't Zayn I saw. That's three times! Something is defiantly wrong.