Bitter ⇒ zayn malik [au]

xv.

•fifteen•

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"Breathe . . . breathe . . . breathe Ellie," she heard the darkness call, halting her sleep - in the confides of her room - as she heaved the duvet to the grounds and stood.

"Who are you?" Ellie wheezily queried, peering into the dusky shadows of the room she undertook.

"Breathe Ellie, just breathe," it spoke.

"What do you want? W-why are you doing this to me? Who are you?"

The day her parents died, was the day this commenced. Ellie watched her parents die; she observed the death of her mother and father on a Wednesday night, countless moons ago. It was a ruthless death, heartless, and predominantly pitiless. Ellie Moore's parents killed themselves, no, not by suicide; they held guns in both hands that night each indicating it to the contraries' heart. Innocent was Ellie as she naively returned from school early, headphones in both auricles and a house key in palm, along with a secondhand phone. Crudely, when she turned the key and crossed the threshold, an earsplitting sound was heard and it wasn't from her music. For the first time, Ellie witnessed something in slow motion; her parents' howls, their bodies in agitation, and blood - an intense shade of crimson seeping out of the depths of their now hollowed hearts. What still pains Ellie Moore the most, was how grief-stricken their faces fell when they squinted at her. She'd never forget such a callous day and the dull letter they left.

 

We're sorry. But, we did this for you Ellie. Only for you.

Tell the police it was a suicide.

Love, Mother and Father.

Ellie blames herself for their passing and has not once spoken of the day ever since - only to the police in the same hour of the death.

"Answer me!" she wailed, "What do you want from me!?" her body deflated to ground in defeat and tears filling her eyes.

"You lied to the police Ellie, you told them it was a suicide. It wasn't," it gravely stated.

"I'm tired of this," her body regained it strength as she stood, "I've been through hell and back! What more could you want!?" Ellie's voice bawled out into oblivion.

"You know what we want Ellie," the voice grew near and she strained to catch sight of who these words were emerging from, "We want you Ellie."

It was now unambiguously clear-cut as to what said this.

"Mom . . . dad," the words caught in her throat as her body crumpled to the floorboards, images of her parents becoming evident.

The indentations of bullet holes held its place.

"Get away from me!" she screamed, but her voice became small and her body, limp.

"We want you Ellie, come with us Ellie," in unison the deceased roared.   

"No, leave . . . p-please, leave," her gorge was raw as every syllable emitted from her rosy lips.

"Stand Ellie, stand to your feet. Get up Ellie, rise!" Ellie's body rose, but she didn't have control of her actions.

"What-what are you doing!? Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" she repeated as her mind went clear.

"Ellie! Get up!" the owner of these words were of a different candidate. It was Zayn.

"Thank God you woke up, you scared me," he breathed. Ellie was in his room, relieved she was, but nothing felt right. 

"Zayn? H-how did I end up in here? I fell asleep on the couch," she endeavored to put the pieces of her unsolved mystery together.