Here's what happens next!
Ow! What the hell... happened to me! My...head... My thoughts are slow, disjointed. The only thing I know for sure is that my head is on fire, like it has been split open with a hammer and pieced back together again. Somewhere, in my muddled mind, I know that's not possible. The last thing I remember is... a van. I remember a black van, then nothing.
"What are we going to do?" The voice drifts into my consciousness, but it sounds hazy, as though it isn't really there. Well, I guess there's only one way to find out.
As I return to full consciousness, I cannot hold back my groan of pain.
"She's waking up!" Shouting. Why shouting? As I my head doesn't hurt enough already. I hear voices again, this time quieter.
"Hey, love, can you hear me?" As I groan he continues. "If you can hear me, open you eyes, love." There is something about the voice, something trusting, that makes me do as it says, slowly opening my eyes. I soon wish I hadn't.
"That's it love. Are you okay? You hit your head pretty hard there." It's that same voice, but I still can't see. I have opened my eyes, but all I can see is blurs, outlines of shapes. I blink once. Twice. Still nothing but blurs.
"Look at her eyes. They're all glazed over." This time it's a different voice that speaks. A deep husky voice. I look in the direction of the voice and see blurred lines and what looks like a mop of brown curly hair.
"I...I'm...Fine..." My voice is hoarse and dry and the pain in my head is stopping me from being able to string even three words together. Damn it!
"No, you're not love. You have a concussion." This voice is higher in pitch and again all I can see is brown and stripes, although I can't tell which colours. Suddenly a wave of fatigue washes over me and I want nothing more than to close my eyes and drift away.
"Love, you need to stay awake. You have a concussion." Strange. I hadn't even realised that I had closed my eyes. Slowly, ever so slowly, I opened them again, but it took all my strength to do it.
"What's your name?" One of them asked me.
"Maria." At least my voice sounded better now.
"Maria. That's a nice name. Hoe old are you, Maria." My brain knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to keep me awake, keep me talking, but I answered anyway, fighting my fatigue.
"Seventeen."
"Oh. Do you remember me, from the van. Niall Horan? From One Direction?" What the hell is he talking about?
"I think I would remember...if I met...One Direction." I joked.
I distinctly heard chuckles, before everything grew serious once more. " Honestly, I'm not at all surprised you don't remember. You hit your head really hard. There was a lot of blood." Her mind must have been clearing, because now she could hear the Irish accent to the voice, as well as the unconcealed worry.
"I don't remember. Maybe it will come back to me. Your Irish. I was born in Ireland but my parents moved her when I was less than a year old." I comment, hoping to steer the conversation away from myself.
"Really?" The Irish accent asked. "Whereabouts?"
"Dublin. You?"
"Mullinger" He replied simply. I smiled despite everything. " I have heard of it."
" Cool. So, Maria, what do you know about One Direction?" She didn't know why, but she could sense that there was something amusing to them, because she heard a snicker and a few snorts, but decided to brush them off as nothing.
"Well, I know that they are the hottest boy band out there. I have been to nearly all of their concerts and absolutely love them!" Her voice had risen in excitement, just like it always did when she spoke about her all time favourite band. But that was all it took for her to remember on two small words that she had heard not five minutes ago. The words that would change her life forever. That Irish lad mentioning Niall Horan, all the talk about One Direction, the snickers and snorts.
"You guys are One Direction."
So, Maria's kidnapped with One Direction. Somethings going to go wrong! Review!
