Victim- Niall Horan

''The victim always knew the most."

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2. All My Fault

Amelia

"Good morning London. This is Charlotte Marietta, coming live from the Leadenhall Building. Last night, at approximately eight-thirty, an arsonist walked into the structure and set it on fire. Families, small children, and workers were celebrating there for the annual Christmas Giveback, but unfortunately, not everyone made it out alive. Two-hundred three people were in the building when the fire emerged, but only forty-nine survived. As you can see in these pictures, One Direction, a world wide famous boy band was also involved in this accident. For their fans, they are all okay, four of them are currently in the hospital, but no major injuries are found. Out of the two-hundred three people, one-hundred eleven of them were children. Twenty-one children are alive." I felt tears stream down my face as the news was reported. It was unfair that such an awful fate happened for so many young lives.

Niall and I were sitting at the uncomfortable black hospital chairs, outside of Louis' room. He had received a large impact of smoke from the fire, and had to have his lungs cleared before they were clogged.  Harry, Liam, and Zayn were being signed out of the tension-filled hospital, and Louis would soon.

"Amelia, look at me," Niall ordered. I put my head in my hands and took an inhale of clear air. "Amelia, now," Niall repeated, lifting my head. His hair was covered in flakes of black ash, and his eyes were bloodshot and growing tired by the second. "None of this is your fault. None. You were with me the whole time, and if you are blaming yourself for this fucking accident, you shouldn't!" he said, opening his arms. I felt safe in his embrace, and my tears were drowned by the black shirt he sported.

"I love you," I said, my voice muffled.

"Huh?" Niall asked.

I lifted my head from the warm material of his shirt and repeated what I said.

"I love you to," Niall said, pecking a kiss on top of my ash-filled hair.

After a few crucial hours of torture and waiting for Louis, the lads came out clean and smiling.

"Finally!" Niall exclaimed. The boys chuckled, rolling their eyes.

They gawked at Niall and I, staring at our complexions.

"You guys need to shower," Liam said, still staring wide-eyed at us.

"Lets go home," Zayn said, throwing his brown bag over his shoulder. "I can't stand the reek of you two,'' he muttered.

Niall hadn't fully convinced me it wasn't my fault about the perishing of the people. He wasn't next to me when parents weakly put their children in my safety, and I only watched. I still felt shivers as I recapped the scene. Thinking back, everything was frozen. I felt as if I was hallucinating delusional ideas, but now I know it actually happened. Nobody knows who set the fire. People say the victim knew the most; I wish I could tell them who did it. I saw it all, the nightmare was viewed from me. The person was dressed casually, they walked nonchalantly and even looked normal. I wouldn't expect such a person to be an arsonist, but I guess I should expect the unexpected. They had eyes the color of glossy wood, gleaming happily as they interacted with the small children.

If I could tell, I would.

But I made a promise, and I can't break it.

That's why it's all my fault.

I'm not a dangerous person, and I am most definitely not involved with something bad as well. I'm not cheating on Niall, and the lads are my real friends.

I love them.

I just wish I hadn't seen what happened the night of the fire.

The night that will change everything.

 

 

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