Unstable (Sequel to Twisted)

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

His hand fully constricted around my throat and immediately began squeezing-hard-against my sensitive skin. A noise gurgled from my throat, muffled since my airways were being squeezed suddenly, the pressure building up, and I was instantly prying at his hand, trying to get them off of me. However, his grip was powerful and unrelenting, and my vision was really beginning the sway as his fingers tensed up, even more pressure being added.

"No!" I heard Fran shout. "Let go of her! Let go of her!" I was gurgling now, helplessly, tears springing in my eyes when I realized I could not breathe. My nostrils were flaring, trying to take in as much oxygen as I could, though there was a terrible burning sensation all over my throat.

The pressure lessened for a moment when I heard Zayn snap at Fran, and I heard something hit the wall-it must've been Fran from Zayn throwing his arm at her to get her off of him. My mouth was open, panting silently, and my eyes were wide in pure panic.

If he kept this up, I was going to die.

I could already feel my lungs burning from the lack of enough oxygen, and I felt as though my throat was being squished by his bare hands. I was then unaware of where I was, or even who I was.

In moments before death, things get hazy.

I stared straight ahead, but I didn't see Perrie's body lying on the bed or the white wall. No. All I could see right now was inevitable death-of the fact that these were probably going to be my last moments on earth. And I felt salty tears streaming down my cheeks as my hands dropped limply to my sides, succumbing to Zayn's assault. I didn't bother gurgling anymore; my body even went limp, leaning back into Zayn, his arm supporting me around the waist and his hand constricting my throat much like a boa constrictor would do to its prey.

This is it. This is the end.

I instantly thought of my parents-I remembered the day my mom first brought me to pre-school. I was so shy, and I wanted nothing more than to stay with her. I then remembered when I graduated from elementary school, and how my father brought me a red rose to congratulate me on my success and high grades. It was amazing; despite the fact that I haven't spoken to my parents in a long time, they were the last things I thought about in these few moments. And these few moments felt like they were hours long-I felt like I had been dislocated from my body and I was watching a few past memories on a large TV screen.

My head started spinning.

My mind grew faint, and the last memory I had before I simply couldn't think anymore was when I first arrived to London.

I remembered how fascinated I was with the foreign, different world. I fell in love with the literature, the historical sections of the town, and I fell in love with everything at first sight. I remembered getting out of the cab and smiling as I looked right up at the London Eye.

I knew I belonged there.

I could feel it.

And now, here I was, about to die in Cheshire, a completely different town.

Zayn was talking to me, I could feel his breath fanning across my ear, but I couldn't hear him. It was like the world went completely silent-the only sound I could hear was my struggled, ragged breathing, and the pounding of my heart echoing in my shadowy mind.

My eyes flickered closed, my mouth going flaccid as I uttered something that seemed so natural and automatic. I wasn't thinking right now-I was welcoming the enveloping darkness, welcoming death that was sure to come.