Dreaming- A Niam Fanfiction

Huggs.

So guyyys...

Someone (you know who you are :p) told me I should be a happy author.

On that I answer: "You should probably read my new fanfiction 'The Boy with the Light Blue Backpack'"

Yeah, you probably should.

By the way, I'm having sort of small exams in a few weeks, so that's why I don't have much time to write.

I'm sorry for the shortness :s

My question iiiisss:

Who do you think 'he' is?

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Niall:

A headache is screetching inside of my head, bursting through my skull and making everything hurt.

I feel hot, and when I turn myself around, rolling on my stomach, I can feel a matrass beneath me.

Where am I?

Groaning, I bring my hands up to my face, wiping away the wet spots underneath my eyes.

Have I been crying?

I open my eyes slowly, feeling sore and sick.

The space aroud me is blurry, and I have to blink a few times before my sight finally focuses on the objects around me.

I'm laying in a bed with light yellow bedsheets, a sofy vanilla colour.

The room I'm in is not too big, but not small either.

There are clothes sprawled around all over the floor, and the lamp that's hanging from the ceiling is broken.

But the worst thing is, that I don't recognize anything.

What was the last thing I did before waking up?

It doesn't matter how deep I dig into my own mind, I can't find the answer.

It's nowhere.

I slowly move up, growning when I feel my stomach protesting by doing flips and turns.

Why am I sick?

Brushing my hand through my horribly tangled hair, I slip one of my legs out of the hot bed, touching the ground with my toes.

It's nice and cold, and I can feel something of relief running through my body.

Immediately stepping out of the vanilla coloured bed, I sway a little from side to side, having to grab a hold on the bedside.

My head is spinning, and I let out a moan.

This feels horrible.

Shakily, I start taking small steps, like this is my first time walking.

I keep my hands on the walls, just to support myself, as I walk out of the messy room shuffling like an old man.

When I finally get though the door, I can hear voices coming from somewhere.

I'm in a light brown-ish hallway, with a big window to the right.

I stare at the outside world for a second, admiring the grey sky and the fog of clouds.

It all looks so silent and beautiful.

Like nobody can disturb the silence of nature.

Shaking my painfull head a little, I turn to the left, walking towards to voices.