The Memory Jar [Zayn Malik]

Chapter 18: Breaking

Hey all!

So can you believe this? This is the fastest I think I've EVER updated, 3 days! I have finals next week and stuff have been busy, but somehow I've been able to write and get ahead of the game. So yay for that, I'm really excited, and will hopefully be able to continue updating at a faster pace!

Thanks so much for the amazing amount of support on the last chapter guys! It really means a lot, and it's great to know so many of you are still reading and enjoying it! :)

Also... I've never been good at recognizing true love, but I've always thought that if you end up crying over the other person, then that's it, you're in love, or pretty damn close. So that may be right, it may be wrong, but it's my interpretation right now. Seeing as I'm not a person who cries very easily either, I can relate to a certain scene of this chapter... So just know it comes from yet another special place inside of me.

I hope you all enjoy chapter eighteen! There are only about three more chapters or so until the book is finished guys! And then I'll start the sequel, which I am BEYOND excited for! :D 

Have a lovely day/night! 

Zayn 

            “Zayn,”

            I roll over and try to hold onto sleep, blocking out the voices shouting at me. They sound so panicked, so urgent that I feel like it must be important, but I’m too tired to care. 

            “Zayn!”

            “C’mon mate, you have to get up. You need to see this.” 

            “It’s really important!” 

            Ugh, what the hell is going on? Unless the house is burning down or something, I don’t want to be disturbed. Sleep is the only place where I can almost escape from all the chaos in my waking life.

             “Zayn!” A voice shouts again, and this time I feel hands firmly grip my shoulders and roll me on my back. Next thing I know, I’m being shaken fiercely, and I don’t like it one bit.

            “What the bloody hell do you want?” I grumble, cracking my eyes open a bit to see Harry’s face hovering above mine, that deep, concentrated expression etched into his features.

            “It’s about Dana,” he says, and that wakes me up completely. 

            I bolt upright, eyes wide, almost knocking Harry off the bed in the process. 

            “What happened?” I demand, looking around wildly to realize that the rest of the boys are also in my room, still dressed in their nightclothes. “Is she hurt?”

            Liam speaks up then, just shaking his head furiously. “I woke up early like usual,” he begins. “And when I went downstairs I saw Dana’s memory jar on the dining room table. It seemed strange since I’d only ever seen it when she went to her therapy, and there was only one piece of paper in it.” He takes a deep breath then, his brow furrowing in worry. “And I had to open it. I knew something was wrong there, and this is what I found.” He then hands me a small, crumpled slip of notebook paper. 

            I bite my lip, staring at the paper for a moment before I open it. I know the boys are waiting, nervous and wanting to see my reaction, but I have to just look at it first. Something is gnawing uncomfortably at the pit of my stomach, something that tells me this is beyond trouble.