I Give You My All {n.h.}

Chapter Forty One

Niall Horan

February 17,

To say I am on edge is a very large understatement. Last night, after Brooke and I had laid down in bed, wrapped in blankets, in silence, wrapped in each other's arms, I received a phone call. Multiple of phone calls, that is.

I ignored the first, trying to push aside everything else and focus my attention on the broken girl in my care. I had the mindset that whatever it was, they could wait.

When my phone began to ring a second time, I rejected the call without even looking. I continued to hold Brooke's body to mine, covering and cradling her fragile state, so desperately trying to shield her from the world around us. I kept trying to protect her from any other emotions crashing down onto her, when in reality, there was no preventing that.

Brooke has been stuck inside of her own mind, granting all of the emotions access to chip and eat away at her sanity. I can tell because of her eyes. They are frozen. There's nothing there. There's obviously way too much going on inside, too much for me to shield her from.

It was probably the fourth or fifth time my phone had rang, in about a five minute period, that I decided to see if it was worth answering.

The word, "mum" appeared on my screen as I looked at it. I was going to answer it when it stopped ringing. I then saw that I had five missed calls. Three from my dad, two from my mum. I see seven texts. My eyes quickly skim the screen and I catch glimpses of words like, "Please" and "urgent", also "serious".

My heart began to thud against my chest, sending a ripple of fear through my veins. I called my mum back.

I now, am reluctantly sitting on a plane, flying home. I had to make a large decision after I received the news about Greg.

My brother had been hospitalized last night. I have no further knowledge of what's going on, other than, the Doctors are saying that it's pretty serious.

Once that phone all ended, there was no way I was going to sleep. However, Brooke was sound asleep and I hadn't wanted to wake her. She was, most likely, unknowingly clinging to my body. There was a crease between her brows and her body was tense all night. I couldn't just up and leave her in the middle of the night. That, and I wouldn't have dared woken her up. I know had I done that, she would've been up the rest of the night.

I guess I had actually slept for a few hours, but had awoken at early hours to a startling sound. I felt how the bed had been empty besides myself.

I soon found Brooke throwing up in the bathroom. She quietly coughed as she gripped both sides of the toilet, her skin very pale. I made myself known before crouching beside her and sweeping her hair away from her face and neck. Both were clammy.

She continued to spit and sputter, letting quiet whimpers slip past her lips along the way. This went on for a while.

Once she had finished, she had brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth. I had done the same after. She made it clear that she was going to shower, without words. Still, she had yet to speak. Her wordless demeanor had started scaring me.

I was about to exit, when she reached for me. She discreetly shook her head, then released me, beginning to undress herself.

She wanted me to shower with her. So I did.

Though she wouldn't admit it, even if she would speak, I seem to be her rock. She hadn't wanted to be separated. She wanted me to touch her and love her, maybe for the fear of being alone. Or maybe she feared crumbling.