The Story Of My (Ridiculous) Life

(2) fred, felix, and frank

I took a step back. "If you want money or something, I haven't got it."

He chuckled again and took a step towards me as I took one back. Any more and I'd topple into the toilet seat.

"Actually, your parents have quite a nice set of expensive ornaments downstairs…"

"They're probably broken by now," I muttered sourly under my breath. I looked back up at him. "Please let me go. I'm only 17 and all I wanna do is enjoy my summer break."

To my surprise, he shrugged and moved backwards. "Okay. Sure. Let me and my boys grab what we need and we'll go. No word of this to anyone. Deal?"

His voice sounded familiar too, but I couldn't place it. I took a deep breath and nodded. I could get out of this alive. I bit my lip anxiously as I watched them all enter separate rooms.

One of the guys from earlier with the knife was standing outside my parents' bedroom, exchanging words with this 'Hazza' person. I tilted my head and frowned as I thought hard. I thought so hard, it felt like I was constipated and pushing as hard as I could to get the poo out.

I looked up at the blond-ish tuft of hair peeking out from his hood. I narrowed my eyes and gasped loudly as it hit me.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

They both raised an eyebrow in my direction due to the loud gasp I made.

I pointed a finger at the one with the knife. "You! I know you. You're Niall Horan!" I shifted my finger to the dude who seemed to be the leader standing next to him. "And you. You're Harry Styles!" My jaw dropped open as they shifted around nervously, neither confirming nor denying my statement. What the-

"And that other guy Niall was talking to. That's Louis Tomlinson!" I frowned as I looked around. There only seemed to be three people, when the OG band had five members. "Where's the other two?"

Almost as if on cue, a voice called out from downstairs. "Guys, I've tried glueing those expensive-looking ornaments back together that Niall broke but it didn't work so I tried some sellotape and blutack but that didn't work either and now I'm panicking and I DUNNO WHAT TO DO!" He screamed the last bit.

"And that's Liam Payne." I reached my hands up to rub my forehead. I must have woken up on the wrong side of bed this morning. I pinched myself hardly to make sure this wasn't a dream.

I can now confirm it's not a dream, judging by the painful aching coursing through my arm.

Silence engulfed us all for a few moments, as though nobody knew what to say. Even the moving around and hammering I hadn't noticed before coming from downstairs had stopped. Then suddenly:

"Who just said my name?!" Liam yelled out from downstairs, his voice echoing throughout the house that I thought was empty.

So I was right. He was Liam Payne, and the rest were the former members of One Direction. There's no way…

"You guys are meant to be dead…" I whispered to myself. A few weeks ago, they'd all been pronounced dead. Three were shot and stabbed to death in their own homes, and Styles and Tomlinson had offed themselves. Fan theories had circulated on the internet that they were simply missing but everyone disregarded those like they were just fake news. And now the truth was right in front of my eyes.

Oh lord. What if they poured bleach in my eyes? I'd be Eva Smith 2.0.

Louis, who'd appeared out of the closet room, was the first to remove his mask. He swiftly pulled it over his head, shaking his hair out like he was a wet dog and ran his hand through it. Then Harry and Niall followed after. My mouth dropped open wider and wider with each reveal as my eyes widened.