Chapter Thirty- Bi-polar Emotions and Trippy Dreams

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"Niall do you believe there's a heaven?" I asked, his hand paused on my head. Then I turned my head so I could look up at him. He seemed to be thinking about the question.

"I think there's a heaven. Then I also believe there's a hell too. Where else would peoples spirits go to rest." He shrugs as he looks down at me, then he strokes my cheek softly and smiles.

"Though you never seen heaven so how can you believe in it?"

"Just because I haven't seen it doesn't mean it isn't real." He says with a smile."You haven't seen god though you still believe he's real."

A smile forms on my face."I guess you're right."

After that we drift off into a comfortable silence. With me laying on his chest, and him playing in my hair. I was never one to allow people to play in my hair, but the act itself was almost lulling me to sleep.

"Niall?" I glanced up at his face, his eyes were opening as I called his name.

"Yeah Kendall?" A yawn slipped past his lips. I glanced at the clock and noticed that it was midnight. Everyone should be going home now.

"Can you sing me a song." A distance memory of me asking my mother to do this flashed by but quickly vanished. They were the past.

He cocked his head to the side as he stared at me,"What do you want me to sing."

"I don't know." I reply back, before laying my head back down on his chest."You're the singer so you pick."

He laughs,"I don't know that many country songs." He tells me. I just shrug and shut my eyes.

"She grew up on the side of the road. Where the church bells ring And strong love grows. She grew up good She grew up slow Like American honey." His voice was low and gently as he sung. A small smile made it's way onto my lips, as a sense of peace washed over me.

Though I should have been crying because this was Foster's song. Sometime I would catch him singing this song as I worked. He was an okay singer though. He always told me he couldn't make it into show biz. Though he did get his wife with his voice.

"Steady as a preacher Free as a weed Couldn't wait to get going But wasn't quite ready to leave So innocent, pure and sweet American honey." Niall's voice was getting lower, as if him himself was falling asleep. Slowly I was drifting off to sleep, with the sound of his voice fading in and out.

"Gone for so long now I gotta get back to her somehow To American honey." I was struggling to hear the rest of Niall's song. Mostly because he was to starting to mumble throughout the rest of the song. I didn't mind because in a couple of seconds I would no longer be coherent.

The water surrounded us from all sides, as the reflection of the moon shone against the water. Midnight stood waited patiently, watching us as he chewed on a piece of grass.

My eyes had settled on a pair of familiar lips. Against my better judgement I found myself leaning into those lips. For some reason I felt as if I just had to kiss them. Just to see what they felt like. Though I knew it'd be wrong and I wouldn't enjoy it.

Just as I was about to make that connection a voice yelled out, but those lips didn't move. Glancing up I noticed that those lips didn't have a face. Blonde hair and lips was all I could make out, everything else was blurred and distorted.

Slowly I backed out of the water looking for that voice that yelled my name. It was only just me, midnight, and a blurred face that I'd assumed was Niall. Which was really starting to creep me out.

"Kendall turn around." My eyes widened at the sudden realization of who was calling me. I turned around in circles trying to find Fosters voice. Though the only thing there was a horse, I stepped closer to midnight. Got a little closer.

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