My life and 1D

When my family gets killed by a drunk driver and I am the only survivor, I don't know how to move on. With no family left, I'm in the hospital when I see the people who called 911. It's One Direction?!


4. Niall Horan

                      There is no expression on her face, and I wonder what she's thinking. Suddenly, an angry red flush takes over her face, and she quickly spins on her heel and heads towards the limo.

         Although she moved fast, I still saw the tears go down on her face.

       "Was that a no?" I asked.




        We head back inside the limo, my hands twitching. Being inside the cemetery kinda freaks me out; I'm not good in these type of situations. I think a quick prayer of thanks, since me Mum and Dad are still alive. Out of all of us, Harry must be the one taking the rejection a little bit too hard. He scoots away from us, sulking.

     "I think she overreacted." he states.

    "Harry, she just lost her entire family, and we dumped the possibility of living with us a little bit too soon. I think she just wants to be alone for now."

     Nobody talks after that, and the ride back to our house us silent.


      To call our home house wouldn't be the word to use; instead, we own an entire apartment complexity. There are some residents, but thankfully it's just old folks who've never heard of One Direction. It's a good thing, because we don't want fans rallying at our door every day.

    As Zayn unlocks the door to our apartment, I walk in first and head for my room. The bed is made (messily) and I jump on it, covering my face with my pillow. I remember Aprilynne's father always talking about her, cracking jokes, and telling stories about her. He would talk about Hadley too, but she was closer to her mother, while Aprilynne was closer to her dad.

    I stare up at my ceiling for a moment and wonder for the millionth time; where will Aprilynne stay at tonight?

   Eventually, I drift off to sleep.



   Knock, knock.

   My eyes jolt open, and I look at my digital clock; 2:37 a.m. Paul wouldn't come this late for an another tour date-unless it was something big. I get up, holding on to my wall so I wouldn't fall flat on my face. I slept in my boxers and a faded t-shirt. Whatever. Paul's' seen me plenty of times in my boxers only.

  Apparently, the other guys are still asleep, as I'm the only one to go open the door. I turn on the living room lights, and open the door. I don't bother to check through the peephole who it is. It's just Paul, right?


   She stands wearing a black tank top, and ripped blue jeans. Black combat boost are laced up to her shins, and her blue hair is made into a side braid. What also catches my attention, is the luggage that sits behind her.

   And her face is going red.

   But not out of anger; more because she's seeing me in my boxers...


Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...