Twenty One Letters To Niall

Sixteen Letters To Niall

It started slowly, the restlessness.

At first it was just in interviews; the urge to get up and leave, the irritation, the feeling of being out of place in his own skin. But then it started to happen everywhere. Whilst out with friends, on stage, whilst alone in bed at night. He couldn't sleep, felt like  a stranger wherever he went.

So he read the letters over and over, quiet in the middle of the night, squinting in the dark. Maybe he was too far in, now. Maybe he should've stopped himself before, because this was a girl he'd never met, a girl that was young and alone. She was miles away, and maybe he'd already lost her without even knowing. Maybe this was stupid.

But he - he couldn't stop. He had to keep reading, he told himself as he buried himself further in his bunk, or else he'd go insane. Too far to go back now, he thought as he took in the words, drinking them in, catching at every bit of this girl he could have.

Dear Niall,

I haven't written to you in nearly three months. Sorry about that. I know you're not reading, but still, I kind of feel like I've betrayed you in some way or another. So here I am. I don't really know where to start, how to make you understand how much life has gotten worse since the last time I wrote to you.

"No," He said quietly. It couldn't have gotten worse, how could it? There wasn't anything in the world that could happen to possibly make this girl more broken, surely.

I guess I'll start with this; I'm currently writing this letter in the back of my maths book, sitting in the middle of the school field. It's fourth period; I am not in Maths, obviously - which is where I should be. I'm not in Maths because they're there. I'm not there because fuck, I really don't care about something as stupid as trigonometry any more. Do you hear that? I don't fucking care.

Maybe later, later on when all the bells have rung and I've gone home on that cloudy, half lit bus, school will ring the house and I'll get yelled at by someone. Because of course it'll be my fault, of course it'll be because I've gotten in with the wrong crowd or something. Obviously the reason why I wasn't in Maths or Chemistry was because I would rather would be with people outside, when really it's because of the people inside that I'm out here.

 I don't - I can't

The words broke off, the once elegant writing now shaky and blurred. Smudges of ink against the squared paper, echoes of pain. Niall took a deep breath.

I'll start again. Three months ago, I wrote to you and told you that Alice, one of the only real friends I've ever had, was acting weird. Remember? 

Well, it turns out Alice is leaving. Was leaving. Has already left, which I guess is the final nail in that coffin life's been digging for me all this time. She moved to Newcastle, Niall. That's hundreds of miles away. I mean sure, we text and email and stuff, but I haven't seen her in two and a half months. She's not here, not here in lessons, not here to make me laugh and show me stupid pictures of her and her cat. She's not here to defend me, she's not here and I still am and you hear that? You hearing this, Niall? 'Cause I'm alone again, and really, I should have known.