Harper’s P.O.V.

“OW! Mother holy-,” My best friend’s head popped up when my eyes flashed to the ruckus.

As I quickly rushed to my window, I helped Maddy climb inside my room-Oh my bad, scratch that-helped Madeline climb inside my room. Ever since she came back from London after her Father's wedding, she’s been insisting she shall be called that; she has such sass. I pulled her inside by her scrawny arm.

“Shit, Harper. When are you going to get rid of your tiger outside? It attacked me again,” She says, showing me claw marks.

I laughed, “Madeline, please. That is no tiger; Mass is a cute kitten.” She made herself at home like always, plopping herself unto my bed.

“An eighty year old lion is not what you call a ‘kitten’.” I noticed a twinge of a British accent in her voice even though it has been almost four months since she came home. “So,” she starts, lying back on my bed. “I heard Hunter is having a party.”

 I roll my eyes at her. She always knows when the parties are and who throws them. Unfortunately, I’m just her wing girl. “Hunter is a pothead, but what I really wanted to say is that Wyatt is back in town.” She sighed, pulling her legs in Indian style. Wyatt was her boyfriend up until he forced her to have sex with him; the relationship only lasted two months until he ended up in the back of a police car. That was a crazy night; Police pulling up and him being put into handcuffs.

My mind flashed back to reality as I heard Madeline’s stomach growl loudly. “Have you eaten lately?” It was twelve in the morning, but I still asked. She opened her mouth, but shut it when nothing came out. That could only mean one thing: Her mother didn’t give her money for groceries again.

“How about we watch a movie?” She asks, changing the subject.

“How about instead, let’s go get McDonald’s.” I say, grabbing my Vera Bradley lanyard that held my money, driver’s license, and keys. “Let’s go, Hun.” Madeline simply nodded as I grabbed her hand leading her downstairs. I know my Mom won’t care for a late-night fast food run. We’ve literally been shoving money into Madeline’s things like pockets or purses for years.

Her Mom was barely ever home; her older sister, Cass, was always at her boyfriend’s; her rich ass doctor Daddy boy was married to a bimbo and lives in London, however still pays for Madeline's school, phone, and other stuff like that. That divorce of her parents a few years back was not a pretty one; consequently, Madeline's Mom is now drunk everyday and is pretty messed up. But Madeline? She's a strong one; I love her for that.

Madeline got into step behind me so I let go of her hand. When we stepped out of the front door, I could spot my red Mazda CX-7 thanks to the full moon that shone over our heads.

“I don’t have any money, Harper.” Madeline stated truthfully.

“I’m paying, and I don’t mind. I just got paid today and you’re my best friend; I’m not going to let you starve.” She sighed, clicking her  seat belt as I put the car in reverse.

Madeline turned on the radio; she loves music. We bobbed our heads to the Dubswift, along its beat. “And now I’m lying on the cold hard ground,” we both looked at each other mischievously before we screamed along exaggeratedly, “AH!”

We corrupted into laughter as we pulled up into the vacant parking lot. I cut off the engine and unlocked both of our doors, getting out.

“Hey, did you hear what Taylor swift did at the Grammy’s?”

Madeline looked at me, confused, “no, what?”

I smiled, “You know the talking part in ‘We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together’ she did a British accent impression of Harry Styles.”

She gasped, opening the door to the restraunt. “I can’t believe she would do such a thing! Harry didn’t deserve that.”

I shrugged, “Yeah, you would know what he deserves or not since ya’ll are best friends and all.”

She rolled her eyes, giggling. “Honey, you know if I could have, I would’ve brought you with me. But I never planned on meeting them.” She went up to the cashier, placing her order.

The cashier, a guy who looked our age, kept hitting on her; she was clearly oblivious. I mean, why wouldn’t she be? She’s now one of One Direction’s close friends.

Madeline is a great friend; she got a snap shot of Niall kissing a picture of me. I sighed; she’s even hooked on Louis Tomlinson. Who, in fact, was going to break-up with Eleanor, but Madeline had to leave.

Ever since, I try my hardest not to mention the fact Louis has not written or texted her back. Even if there is a big time difference, doesn’t mean he has to be a total jerk and ignore her; he’s an asshole.

My best friend grabbed her McDonald’s bag and Sprite, waiting for me. I ordered for myself, smiling at the cashier guy. He smiled back, but I knew it was fake. That’s how it always is; Madeline is the beautiful one. I’m just an awkward penguin.

I ordered two milkshakes because I know how much Madeline loves them, and she needs more fat on her bones. I thanked him as he handed my shit, and we hauled ass out of there.

<3<3

“Who is texting you this early in the morning?” I ask Madeline, catching a glimpse of the time as she unlocked her phone to check a text message.

“Harry is. He keeps asking me random questions,” she finishes her last French fry, texting him back. My heart skips a beat at his name. I mean, why wouldn’t it? I don’t know how Madeline can stay so calm texting one of the five hottest guys in the whole world. Did you hear me? ONE OF THE FIVE HOTTEST GUYS IN THE WHOLE FREAKING WORLD.

“What?” Madeline says with her mouth full. I look at her; did I accidently say that out loud?

“Nothing,” I mumble, looking back at the horror movie we were watching.

“Do you want Niall’s number?” She smiles at me, winking.

I roll my eyes at her. “As much as I adore Niall Horan, I believe that would be awkward.”

“How so?” She asks, actually putting down her phone to pay attention to me. I gasped jokingly, “Whoa, Madeline is actually paying me attention!”

Madeline pouted, “I do too pay attention to you, but you know how much I hate Horror movies!”

“Sure, whatever you say, Madeline.” I glance back at the TV, knowing the worst part was about to come up.

“You know you want Niall’s number,” she says. I could hear the smirk in her voice as she shined her phone in my face. I looked at her like she was crazy before I saw her iPhone screen. It was on a contact name; Niall’s to be exact.

My mouth hung open in shock. “When-what-no,” I choke up, grabbing Madeline’s phone. I squealed; my face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Oh my God,” Madeline spoke through laughs, “your face was priceless!” Just great; my face was humiliating, obviously. I mentally slapped her in my mind, turning my whole body to face the movie that was on, trying to ignore her.

“Harper,” she reasoned, “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” I pulled my knees up to my chest, trying to ignore her.

“You know you can’t ignore me forever, Hun.” I roll my head to look at her; she was making the craziest faces at me.

“Well aren’t you looking attractive,” I laugh, forgiving her that quickly. How could I not? I love this girl to death. I would jump off a bridge for her. Well, if it was bungee jumping because I’m not the suicidal type. Being suicidal is selfish because everyone around you who you think doesn’t love you, in reality, does and they’ll miss you terribly. My Uncle committed it when I was only fourteen; it was terribly almost five years ago.

I shuddered at the thought. “Is the scary movie getting to you?” Madeline asks, typing away on her iPhone again.

“Yeah, totally,” I lie, pulling the covers tighter around me.

“See,” Madeline says, pointing at the screen, “Is why I hate Horror movies. Why couldn’t we rent some spy movie with hot actors?”

I rolled my eyes at her again; her personality always surprises me. “Because you picked last time, and this time I got to pick.”

“Obviously,” she muttered. I laughed; so what if I like Horror movies? At least we’re not watching some cheesy romance.

Madeline’s P.O.V.

-DREAM SEQUENCE-

Police sirens were screaming in the back ground as I sat up in an unidentified room. My surrounding was blurry before I gained my sight back. Where was I? Panic was caught up in my throat as I held back a scream. I heard a bang from somewhere; I think it was outside.

I slowly moved to the door, putting my ear to it, listening; I heard nothing. While biting my lip of nervousness, my hand quietly turned the old looking knob.

 I poked my head out, seeing that it leads to another room that looked to probably be a living room at one point of time. There was a simple sofa that looked like it went through hell and back. On my left, the curtains were drawn so I couldn’t tell exactly if it was still daylight. Luckily, there was a simple old lamp in the corner that lit up the room.

My tip-toes never made a sound as I ran to the door that was on the other side of the room. “Don’t leave me…,” a voice croaked from behind me. I gasped, turning to see Zayn lying on the ground behind the counter where I could not see him at first. I let out a silent cry, imagining what state of pain he must be in.

As I rushed closer to him, I could see the bruises now clearly. “Zayn,” I whispered, cupping my hand under his jaw. He flinched, squinting at me. Zayn’s left was swollen, as so his bottom lip. “Oh my God,” I mumble, trying to help him up.

“Give me a hand,” he chokes, as I grab his hand and help him to his feet. “Where are we?” I ask.

“Shit went down, and we ended up at this apartment of this guy I use to know,” he hops to the door. “Out these doors are stairs, and then it leads to an alley. We need to make a left from there and walk straight until the pub and then we need to call someone for a ride.”

I try to listen to his instructions, but his accent is too rich to understand. “So no one knows where we are?”

“I think not,” he replies as I twist the knob of the door and spotting stairs. “Okay, I’m going to try and get you down the stairs one at a time,” I instruct, taking my time with Zayn.

“No, I can survive. We need to hurry,” he gasps suddenly, grabbing his leg.

“Bull shit, Zayn. I’m taking my time.”

We were already half way down the stairs when I heard something smash from upstairs. My eyes widened as I gripped Zayn’s arm tighter. “What was that?” I whispered.

Zayn covered my mouth and somehow managed to get us down the stairs. I heard a yell, and when I look at Zayn, he has fear in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. “Go,” he whispers, pushing me.

“No,” I tell him stubbornly, yanking at his arm and dragging him out the door.

“Go!” He yells this time, pushing me ahead of him. This time it’s me with fear in my eyes as I start to run.

I hear someone mumbling cuss words and the next second a gun shot. My head snapped back as I see one of my best friends fall to the ground. I cover my mouth, screaming into it as I keep on, running through the alley.

If I go back, I may die. Zayn… Tears were streaming now as my hair falls in my face. I could see a street light dimly shining up above as I hear heavy steps behind me. I push myself harder as my sides feel like they’ve been stabbed.

“Come back, Bitch!” I hear behind me. I don’t dare glancing back, knowing it’ll slow me down.

Do I turn left or right? I ask myself. I hear my voice getting called from my left, so I don’t think and go the opposite.

Police sirens wail again in the background, as I see a dumpster. My first instinct is to hide behind it, so I take it.

I slip on something, tripping me up, but I still manage to fumble behind the dumpster. There was a crack in between the dumpster and the brick wall, but I don’t dare take a peek as I try my hardest to keep my breathing down.

Seconds later, I hear heavy footsteps that echo through my head as loud as my heart was pumping. I start gasping for breath, trying to quiet myself. The guy is going to find me; I’m going to die.

I hear a grunt and another stream of cuss words following by someone talking. “Randy, I lost her.”

I bite down my lip hard, wanting to scream. I hear footsteps leave just then, they get softer until I can’t hear anything else. I hesitate, wondering what I should do. What if they’re there?

I checked my pockets for my phone; they must have taken it. Damn them, I thought, as I quietly got up. Should I go back? Well, of course; I need to help Zayn!

I screamed on the inside, inching my way around the corner. The insane guy wasn’t there so I started walking fast towards the alley. Before I poked my head around the corner, I breathed in slowly and held it.

My eyes saw it before I could register it; Zayn on the ground, lying still. I ran then, all the way to where he laid.

“Zayn…,” I cried silently, beginning to weep. My best guy friend who I loved dearly was in my arms; he died protecting me. What was I going to do?

Then I realized: Zayn told me to go to the pub that was to the left of the alley to call someone, but instead I went right. I’m such an idiot. He could still be okay if I went left instead.

I looked down at Zayn; blood was staining my hands already. “I love you,” I whispered, slowly shutting his eyelids. “Rest peacefully, love.” I choked quietly. Why is this happening to me?

I slipped my arms from under him, letting him rest on the cold wet concrete. I’m not going to leave him here; I’ll call for someone to rescue me and tell them where I am.

I stepped up my pace; I was lucky those horrible murderers didn’t get to me when I was with Zayn, so I have to be on my toes. The pub was lightly lit, so I couldn’t tell if they were open until I saw the open light on.

I pulled the big red door to the pub open, stepping in. The smell of beer hit me, but I didn’t care. I needed to find a phone.

A man who looked to be in his late forties stood behind the bar, rearranging shot glasses. “Excuse me? Can I use your phone?”

He spun around, smiling. His smile quickly fell once he saw me. “What have you been through, little lady?”

“Please?” I whine.

“Yeah, sure,” he nods, pulling a phone out from his pocket. I lean over a few chairs to reach and grab it from him.

“Thanks,” I say.

He nods, turning back to the shot glasses. No one else was in the pub as I franticly type some numbers I somehow remembered and pressed the call button.

Seconds later, a familiar British accent I’ve grown to love spoke. After I gave directions and everything, I gave the guy at the bar back his phone.

“Are you okay?” He asks, directing his attention to me.

“Hell no,” I sighed, looking out the windows. Would that killer be able to see me through them? I quickly thought, regretting ever second of it as it slipped into the back of my mind.

“The Police should be here any second,” I say nervously. He gives me a questioning look before I look back out the window.

Seconds later, I spot a figure outside, and panic surrounds me once more. “Do you have a bathroom?” I ask.

“Yeah mate, behind those doors,” he points, directing to a set of door I had not noticed before.

“Thank you,” I mumble, nearly running to the doors.

After I slip into the restroom, I hear a few mumbled words from outside the door I had just walked through. I glance around the bathroom, noticing a tiny window to my far left.

My hands began trying to fumble the lock, sliding the glass upwards. I grab both sides of the frame, crawling through it. I hear someone yell just a couple feet away as I scramble down onto the pavement outside.

My feet slipped under me, stumbling as I made my way down the road. I see police lights flashing, coming my way as I’m also blinded suddenly by a car. I stop, gasping, before I hear another gun shot, and pressure into my stomach. My face slid across the pavement as I fell, scraping it.

I couldn’t feel anything but numbness as I see blue and red flashing again and someone in my view.

A familiar voice called my name, but I could only hear just barely as I felt myself slipping into something that scared me.

“Madeline, stay with me!” Louis yelled, but I already felt myself slipping. I didn’t know what, but I knew I was almost gone. The boy who I started to fall in love with said something else, followed by another stream of profanities before I heard something that let me fall.

“I love you, Madeline. Please stay.”

__

I sat up, gasping for breath. The sun shone through the curtains as I came to my surroundings. I was back in Harper’s room; it was only a dream. Tears began to stream down my face as I grabbed my pillow, holding it tighter.

Of course it was a dream; Louis never would care for me and say those three letter words to me. My heart yearned for him though, knowing I miss him in every way.

My heart was still pounding as I looked at my sleeping beautiful best friend beside me. Harper looked peaceful, so I decided not to wake her.

As I felt myself growing relaxed again, I heard my phone beep. Who would be texting me this early?

My hand rummaged around the sheets, trying to find my phone. It read that I had a message as I slid the lock to put in my password. My hands began to shake as I read the words on my iPhone screen.

I just had this crazy shit dream about you… I madly miss you. X

I couldn’t react at first; I felt paralyzed. I could only stare at the screen, reading the text in shock that he actually texted me after all this time, and it was reality not a dream.

Louis Tomlinson.

Hey everyone! My internet is going to be down for awhile (Lonnggg storry haha). So I hope you can VOTE, COMMENT, well.. you know the drill. ;D If you read this, add the word 'DREAM' into your comment, lovelys (: Have any ideas? 

I love you guys, my fans. I LOVE YOU. Your comments and votes make me so happpyyyy! Well, I'll update soon. For now, a dog is yapping at me so I guess I shall let you go :D