I wait at the cemetary for the rest of the day, but Niall never comes back, not even to retrieve his beloved guitar, which I know is very special to him.

So around 7:30, I pick up the guitar and begin walking towards the woods.

Even at this late hour, the woods are brimming with life. The trees sway slightly in the cool breeze while insects hum softly. A few stray bird chirps are heard here and there and I let out a blissful sigh. I see why Niall lives out here. It's relaxing and peaceful.

Or so I think. The further I travel into the forest, the scarier it gets. Now, all around me are dead trees and slowly the sounds of wildlife have faded into the distance. Panic begins to set in at the terrifying atmosphere. I have no idea where Niall's house is and I also have no idea how to get back to the cemetary. i've taken too many twists and turns to remember...

Well shit, I didn't think this through.

I glance at my phone. It's 9:30, and I have no idea where I am.

Right when I'm about to give up this hopeless attempt at finding a house when there appears not to be one, I see it.

I probably wouldn't have noticed it if not for the moonlight bouncing off of one of the shards of a broken window and bouncing back at me. I run towards the sparkling shard of glass, and that's when the entire house comes into view.

It looks like something out of a horror movie. it's a small one story house made out of rotting wood. There are only two windows that I can see and they're both broken and dirty. There's no door to enter the place, only a gaping hole in the shape of one.

I swallow my anxiety and fast walk into the gaping doorway before I chicken out.

The inside of the house is just as eerie as the outside. The moonlight is the only light illuminating the old fashioned living room before me. The couch looks as if it's from the 1940's or something. A love seat with dozens of tears in the cushion sits lazily to the left and a dark wooden coffee table lies in the middle, wood green in some places. The walls are covered in moss and other living organisms that have obtained the rotting wooden planks as their territory. A book shelf sits at the far wall, and I take a few steps closer to inspect it. I don't recgonize most of the books, for they are either too worn out to make out the title, or the titles are so old I don't recognize them. But there's one I recognize by the name of the Great Gatsby and it sends a crack throughout my heart that Niall owns this tragicaly beautiful book.

I place the guitar carefully next to the couch. I then take cautious steps through the room, into another one. The wooden floors beneath me creak with each step I take, almost as if they just barely hold my weight.

I find myself in a room that resembles a kitchen. The floor is made out of more ancient wood and so are the walls. Old cupboards lay on the walls and I slide all of them open. Each one is empty, except one of them holds a bottle of tequila and red solo cups. There's no refridgerator, but I spy a cooler on the ground and ease it open. Inside are literally ice, bananas, beer, and cans of Dr Pepper. My stomach churns. How can any human being live like this?

I continue to make my way throughout the house, peeking my head into another small room which I quickly realize is a bathroom. My nose crinkles in disgust. Black mold sits at the bottum of a bathtub, and in between the wooden floorboards. There's a dusty mirror on the wall and a dirty bowl of water with a bar of soap next to it, which is most likely used as a sink. A tooth brush and tube of Crest toothpaste sit next to the "sink", and they both look extremely out of place in a run down home like this one. I guess I now see why Niall always has suck perfect teeth. The thing that confuses me the most is why this bathroom doesn't have a toilet in it.

I continue down the hallway, where I reach the last room in this house. Surprisingly, this one has a door, and this door is closed, blocking my view of the inside scenery. I take a steadying breathe. He's in there. I know that he is.

I summon up every sap of courage I can muster before gently knocking on the old wooden door, afraid that knocking too hard would destroy the ancient wood altogether.

I stand there, waiting in quiet anxiety, for something to happen, but nothing does. I knock a little harder this time, calling softly, "Niall?"

After a couple minutes, the door eases it's way open, and in front of me stands a disheveled version of my recluse. His blue eyes are hollow and a frown has set itself deeply on his perfect lips. My heart breaks even more when I see the puffy red quality of his eyes. He's been crying.

I lay a shaky hand on his shoulder, "Why did you go after Brett like that? He's a good guy, he'd never hurt you... And you never do that to me. I thought you were improving. What set you off like that?"

He averts his gaze to the floor, growling through gritted teeth, "I thought we had an agreement that you wouldn't ask personal questions."

I sigh, crossing my arms, "We did. But I think it's time you let me ask you some personal questions."

His gaze flits up to mine, icy and forboding.

"Niall, you just stabbed my friend in the leg for absolutely no reason. I think I deserve an explanation." I say, eyes narrowing.

"Well I'm not gonna give you one, okay?" He erupts into yelling, and once he starts, he doesn't stop. His eyes take on a wild look in them and he runs his hands through his usually neat blonde hair, messing it up. He begins to pace, "It's too fucking messed up! Don't you see that this explanation that yore just dying to hear has been eating away at me for years now? And I've been trying so fucking hard to block it all out! So don't you dare make me give an explanation because I don't fucking want to."

Tears glisten in my eyes at the obvious pain the man before me has been through. But I have to put my foot down, "Talking about it might help you." He scoffs at my words, but I continue, "Maybe it hurts so much because you're blocking it out. You have to face it head on-"

Niall whirls around to me, veins popping out of his neck, "Just get out, okay? Get the fuck out, I'm not telling you anything!"

The fury and utter brokenness of him shatters my heart and I feel a tear slide down my cheek. My hands tremble, "Fine. But I won't be seeing you next Sunday, then. Or any one after that. Thought I could help you, and fuck, I wanted to help you. But I guess not everyone can be fixed, can they?" I spit out.

The look he gives me in that moment breaks my heart. It's one of betrayal, and such an intense pain, it could've killed me on the spot if looks could.

I swallow hard, "Bye, Niall."

As I walk through the hallway, across the creaking floorboards, he doesn't follow me, and let me tell you, it kills me inside.

The leaves crunch beneath my feet as I walk across the expanse of dead wilderness, leaving a trail of tears behind as I go.

I'm pissed at myself for getting so attached to such a deranged person. How could I think I could spend so much time with someone like that and not get attached? How could I f.ucking think I could magically heal him of whatever he's been through?

I start to put quite a distance between myself and the house. I stop dead in my tracks and turn around at the sound of dead leaves crunching under someone's feet.

I see him standing in the gaping hole that is his doorway.

His desperate blue gaze locks on mine and he makes the slightest motion with his hand, as if telling me to come back.

I stand there for a moment, thinking. But while my mind is deciding what to do, my legs already have, and they're taking me back in Niall's direction.

When I'm a mere few feet in front of him, I stop, hesitating.

He slowly opens his arms, eyes asking a question that he'd never say aloud. I give him a nod of my head and rush forward towards him, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him tightly. Surprisingly, he hugs me back, and buries his tear-covered face into my neck.

"I need an explanation, Niall." I whisper as I continue to cry into his embrace.

"I know." He murmurs into my neck.

"Am I going to get one or am I wasting my time?"

"You aren't wasting your time." He whispers back and I squeeze him a tiny bit tighter.

I want to know why he is the way he is, and he's going to tell me. But for now, we just stand there holding eachother, putting whatever this horrible truth is off to the side for a few extra moments of bliss.