+WARNING+ : Future parts of this fanfic may contain offensive and upsetting topics. If you are easily offended please do not read on.
Part 1
I was in love with a boy. He was beautiful, funny and super kind. Every day, like clockwork, I would finish school and walk straight to his house. There we would spend hours in each other company, laughing, chatting and sometimes; kissing. We had been through so much together, he was my best friend and nothing could ever separate us. I still remember our fist date. A mutual friend had introduced us at a party; we were both looking a little out of our comfort zones so the company was much appreciated.
"I'm Niall," he grinned, extending his hand for me to shake. I smiled back embracing his hand in mine.
"Nice to meet you," I smiled over my drink, "I'm Emma."
We had spent the rest of the evening flirting and sarcastically commenting on every little thing possible.
"If the girl had anymore makeup on," Niall stated, "she'd be mistaken for a clown!" I burst into laughter almost knocking over my drink.
"Your sooo original," I joked grinning at the blonde boy with the cute smile, imagining myself sitting on his lap with an arm over my shoulder and a pair of lips on my cheek.
A couple of weeks later me and Niall were "officially" together, but really people had just started to notice us spending more time together and eventually rumours began to spread. We just ignored them, to us nothing mattered but our love. We intended to be by each other's sides for a long while.
"I promise I will be there for you through thick and thin," Niall said. It was only a month or so into our relationship and very unexpected. At the time we were sat at his house watching television, it was completely out of the blue. Not knowing how to react, I simply took him by the hand, kissed him on the cheek and whispered,
"I will be by your side forever."
I stood by my word, of course. When the time came, I was always there. When Niall was getting bullied I held his hand when he cried and let his head rest gently on my shoulder as the tears dripped from his eyes. It was a stupid thing to bullied over; some complete and utter dick had noticed that Niall didn't have his idea of perfect teeth and decided it was his duty to make Niall feel awful about them.
"Does it really matter how your teeth look?" I whispered into his ear as we lay on the sofa one night, "I love them, I love you." When he didn't reply I brought him closer to me and kissed the top of his head. Unfortunately the bullying got worse and Niall's parents decided to make him move schools.
Niall was always there to protect me. One summer evening, the two of us were on a romantic stroll in the park when a bloke jumped out of hedge and grabbed my handbag.
"Oi!" I yelled, stamping my foot on the ground, "Oh, well..." I turned to Niall for comfort but he was gone. He had run after the thug! "Niall! No! You'll get hurt!" I shouted, sprinting to catch up with him. When I finally caught up, Niall and the thief were in a full blown fight. Grabbed my bag and threw it away from the man. The bloke stood in shock, obviously not knowing what to do. Before he could make any decisions, Niall and I had hurriedly walked off. Since then Niall has gotten me out of so many scrapes I've lost count. We were very much in love.
It was a cold November evening when I first realised something was wrong. After school I took the same route I took every night, step by step. Pulling my thick winter coat tight to my neck, I rang his doorbell. As usual his mother answered, welcoming me inside with a smile.
"He's in the shower at the moment, Emma dear," She smiled, showing me into the kitchen, "but I needed to talk to about something anyway." I followed her to the kitchen table and sat in silence while she made some tea. What could possibly be wrong? Why couldn't Niall be here?
Part 2
His mum, Mora, settled down next to me and handed me a mug.
"I was just wondering if you had noticed anything strange about Niall lately?" She said, eyes flooded with worry. The truth was: I had. Since the start of the month he had been eating less and less.
"Nothing stands out," I assured her, "He's probably just going through a stage, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." I patted her hand to reassure her but if I'm honest, I was becoming more and more worried myself. Before Mora could say anymore, Niall burst through the kitchen door.
"Hi Em," he grinned, standing awkwardly in the doorway. He didn't like hugging and stuff in front of his mum.
"Thanks for the tea Mora," I smiled, giving her a quick hug before standing up to follow Niall.
Once in the safety of his room I decided to ask Niall what was up,
"Niall, is there something wrong with you at the moment?" I asked, walking over to sit on his bed. He gave me a funny look before sitting next to me on the bed.
"No, why?" He said staring into my eyes with concern.
"Oh, it's probably nothing; your mum was just worried about your appetite..." I murmured, hugging him to me tight. Despite his reassurances I still didn't feel entirely comfortable.
The following day I received a phone call from Mora.
"Hi sweetie," she said, her voice sounded even more worried than yesterday, "Niall didn't eat all of his dinner last night...I'm really worried."
"Are you sure he wasn't just full?" I asked down the phone, even though I could sense something was wrong.
"It was his favourite meal...," Mora replied, "It wasn't just last night though... he hasn't finished a meal since last week." At this I stopped. Niall barely ever left any food; something was seriously wrong.
After reassuring Mora once again I went online to research eating problems. Horrific stories of various eating disorders filled my webpage. It only took a few minutes for me to form a whole new theory to Niall's lack of appetite. Now my only issue was how to confront Niall...
"Umm Niall can I talk to you about something?" I said. It was Sunday afternoon and I had finally plucked up the courage to talk to Niall about his problem.
"Sure," he smiled taking my hand as we looked for somewhere private to talk, "What's wrong, Em?"
"It's more like what's wrong with you," I started, but he cut me off,
"There's nothing wrong with me," he said still smiling. I sighed how could I get through to him?
"Niall," I said, there was a brief pause before I continued, "Niall, are you anorexic?"
Part 3
For a moment he just looked at me a blank expression on his face. For a moment a flicker of sadness crossed his eyes but then the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile and then he began to laugh.
"What?" He laughed, pulling me into a comforting hug, "Em, I love my food! There is no chance that I would ever turn anorexic!" Did I believe him? Well, in truth, I didn't. Although I could believe he wasn't anorexic, I still felt as if something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
"Well, what's wrong with you then?" I asked, taking his left hand in my right.
"Nothing's wrong, I don't see why you would think something was wrong?" Niall said a slight frown appearing on his face.
"It's just, me and your mum have been worrying about..." I started but before I could go on Niall let go of my hand and backed off.
"Oh. You've been talking with my mum behind my back?" He scowled. I hated to him like this. Anger really didn't suit him.
"Niall, it's not like that..."
"Oh yeah? What is it like then?"
"We're both really worried..."
"You of all people should know I can look after myself!"
"I know..."
"There's nothing wrong with me!" He shouted. He'd never shouted at me before. Come to think of it we'd never argued before. I looked up at him he was about 4 inches taller than me but it always made me feel safe and protected. Now though I didn't feel safe, in fact, I was feeling something I'd never felt before. It was a pain deep in me, almost as if my heart was breaking in to tiny, tiny pieces.
We stood in silence for what seemed like an age, then, without a word, Niall was gone. He left me standing on my own, no one to lean on and no shoulder to cry on. I could feel a tear forming in my eye before I collapsed down on my knees. I never wanted to feel like this ever again...
I spent the next few days trying to get Niall to forgive me. I do not know how many times I called and texted his mobile. At night I'd sit by the phone and pray he'd call, staring up at the ceiling as if someone out there might hear my prayers. Often, Mora would pick up the phone. Almost always, she would tell me he was busy, except her voice would wobble as she said busy. Sometimes I would hear the odd sob in the background or as she hung up I'd hear her crying. I spent the days searching through old pictures, retracing our memories. I pulled out a photo of me and Niall from the party. He looked as gorgeous as ever. His blonde locks starting to flop in his face. His bright blue eyes sparkling in the light. His smile. The smile that took my breath away every single time it made an appearance. I would have done anything to see that smile right there and then.
One Friday morning, to my relief, I received a text off Niall. He had asked for me to come round and have a chat. I burst into life, the idea of our love pushing me on. I took the route I took most other days, round the corner, past the bus stop then up the path to his front door. I spent a second preparing myself, building up the courage to knock. Without thinking, I knocked our specially knock. It was a happy knock, we'd invented when we were bored sometime last year, it had made us giggle for a while but then it just stuck and became another of the usual things we would do together.
When no one answered I felt slightly embarrassed. I'd built myself up for this reunion but it seemed as if no one was in. Was this some kind of sick joke? Just as I was about to turn and leave, the front door swung open. It was Niall's brother. His face was stained with dry and fresh tears. For a moment a horrible silence fell over the world. My stomach flipped upside down and all over the place.
"What's happened? What's wrong?" I panicked. Niall's brother just looked at me, his eyes drowning in sadness. He opened his mouth to speak,
"Emma, there is something you need to know..."
Part 4
I stared at the looming building in front of me: the Hospital. I couldn't believe what was happening. As soon as I had found out I'd fled all the way to the bus stop and caught the earliest ride to the hospital, but now I stood not knowing how I was going to face this. I could feel the overwhelming sense of fear and sadness flooding my head already.
"Can I help you?" A nurse asked, catching me unaware. I gulped back the pain and said,
"I'm looking for Niall Horan?"
"He's right this way," The nurse said, guiding me through the hospital doors and down the everlasting corridors.
"I'm sorry about the circumstances..." The nurse added. I just swallowed and nodded. To be honest, I was in no mood to talk let alone see the boy I loved in pain. We came to standstill just outside Niall's ward.
"Good luck sweetie," the nurse said, patting me on the back before rushing off the get on with her work.
As soon as she rounded the corner I could feel myself breaking down. I slumped against the corridor wall, sobbing into my hands. Why? Why? WHY? Why did it have to be him? It took me a while to compose myself, but I managed to calm down. Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I placed my hand on the door handle and counted down from three. 3...2...1!
I pushed the door open and took a step inside the room. What I saw scared me. I almost burst into frightened tears. Niall was sat up in bed clutching the hand of his mother. Both their eyes were puffy from crying.
"Emma!" Mora cried, "You're not supposed to be here!" I wanted to run to his bed side. I wanted to sit next to Mora and cry in company. I wanted to take Niall's hand and never let go. Yet, my feet wouldn't move. I was stuck; motionless.
"I think we need to talk..." Mora sighed, preparing herself to talk to me outside.
"No mum," Niall said, his crystal eyes not leaving contact with mine, "I want to tell her." Concern creased across Mora's brow.
"Are you sure, sweetie?" She whispered, her hand resting on his shoulder. He gave a swift nod before, gesturing that she should leave the room. She shuffled out, briefly squeezing my shoulder on the way past.
As soon as the hospital door swung shut after her, I focused my attention on the boy I loved. He watched my every move as I walked to his bedside and took a seat. He looked so frail and weak, his face was washed out and his eyes had lost that spark that kept him alive.
"I love you so much," he whispered, his hand franticly reaching out to grab mine.
"I love you to," I gulped, bringing my hand up to his cheek. I could feel tears falling freely down my face but they were just background to the many emotions flooding my head, "P-please tell me what's wrong?" I only just managed to stutter. Now it was Niall's turn to sob.
"I don't want to have to say this..." he gulped, momentarily losing my gaze, "But you need to hear this from me..." He paused, mouth open ready to tell me but still no words escaped his lips, "I need to hold you," he sobbed. He sat up and opened his arms out so I could hold him tight. His chin rested on my shoulder as I rocked him gently from side to side, my fingers brushing through his hair. We broke apart for seconds; I stared at my hands, twiddling them awkwardly. I felt a finger push my chin up so that once more our eyes met. Mine tear stained and his dead and dull. He took a deep breath,
"Emma, I've got Cancer."
Part 5
The next few weeks flew past in a blur of tears and grief. I'd lay awake at night, unable to sleep with fear that the following morning could be the one I'd been dreading since I'd found out. Niall had stomach cancer which would explain his lack of appetite and the gut retching pain he currently felt every time he moved, ate or even breathed. I'd spend the daylight hours at his bedside, wincing every time he vomited. Loosely rubbing his back, afraid I might harm him even more if I rubbed to hard. At nightfall I was dragged back home and forced to sleep. Over the weeks his condition got worse and worse, he became weaker and weaker and his embrace grew colder and colder. He was slowly and painfully dyeing.
It was Saturday night of the forth week when I experienced an odd feeling deep in the base of my stomach. It was so intense it woke me from my less then peaceful slumber. It was almost as if someone was tickling my insides. I felt uncomfortable. I felt tense. I didn't feel myself. I jumped out of bed and strode around my room for a while, desperately trying to shake off the worry. I glanced over to the phone that sat prominently on my bed side table. That phone had complete control over my life, my happiness. At any moment it could ring and bear me the news I longed not to hear. At any moment that phone could bring my whole world crashing down... Brrring...
The phone burst into life. It was time. I froze, unsure of what to do. The phone continued to ring, it's shrill filling my ears. Stumbling over to my bed, I made sure I was sat down before answering.
"Hello?" I choked, I could barley move. My breathing had become shallow and panicked. I feared the worst.
"Miss, I think you'd better come down to the hospital." The voice on the other end said, their voice laced with sympathy.
"I understand," I nodded. Yes, I know they could not see me nodding but I felt the need to nod. Almost as if I was accepting his fate, my fate.
The time between my bedroom and the hospital was a blur. Somehow, I found myself standing in front of Niall's door. Now time had slowed down, people around me rushed but I only saw them in slow motion the panic on their faces as they burst both in and out of Niall's hospital room. I could make out some words. Blood? Coughing? Coughing up blood? There was nothing I could do. I just stared ahead at the clean wood of the clinic door, a single tear forming in the corner of my right eye.
"Miss, I think you should know the situation," said a voice, startling me out of the trance that overcame me far too often. I swung around. A young nurse stood before me, face sullen and grey.
"He doesn't have much time left..." She started. Slowly the chaos surrounding Niall's room thinned out leaving just me and the nurse in the corridor, "It's time to say your final goodbye." I nodded. Then, without a word I swung on my heel and into Niall's room.
I could feel the darkness hanging over the room as soon as I step foot inside. It was as if the inevitable had already happened.
"Em?" Niall whispered. He was weak. Weaker than ever, sat up in bed, barley managing to call my name. I took my usual seat at his bed side before looking up to meet his eyes.
"It's time," he gulped, his beautiful blue eyes not leaving my own.
"I'm sorry," I shivered. Attempting not to burst into tears.
"Don't be," he coughed. Then came a long pause. A pause in which he collected all his strength before choking out the next three words, "I love you."
"I love you to," I replied. I could no longer contain myself. Tears fell freely down my cheeks.
"Don't cry beautiful," he whispered, reaching a shaking hand out to caress the tears away, "Let's just have this moment." I nodded. Placing my hand on his so he wouldn't waste his energy.
"Promise me you'll never forget me?" he asked, eyes tracing the outline of my face.
"I promise I will never forget," I gulped. At this, a smile spread across his face. A smile that I always longed to see. A perfect smile. A smile that had begun to fade.
"No..." I whispered. It was too late... He was gone.
3 years later...
The Winter wind bit sharply on my cheeks, reminding me cruelly of the long walks to Niall's house that I used to take. I looked around me. I was alone. I'd been stood here for at least fifteen minutes, my mind still reliving the past. I bowed my head down to the grave in front of me, resting a small bunch of flowers before it. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. I'd come here many times since his death but every time I came back it was difficult to even look at the grave let alone read the words engraved carefully onto it. Yet, each and every time I came I forced myself to look. Here I was. Still missing the boy I'd spent all my time with so long ago. Still missing our inside jokes. Still very much in love with him.