Tegan's P.O.V
October 2012
~~~
I drop to my hands and knees beside Oliver's body laying sideways on the cement. The headlights of the truck only inches away from us, shining straight into my eyes.
"Oliver?" I call, grabbing his shoulder.
Above me, I hear the truck door open and Liam speak. In every direction, there is noice, familiar and unfamiliar voices, doors opening, closing.
I reach for Oliver's glasses laying in the street. One of the lenses popped out. They're broken. I wrap my fingers around them, holding them to my chest.
"You'll be alright, Oliver." I promise softly.
Fingers wrap around my arm, pulling slightly. My eyes begin to swell and I attempt to pull out of the grip around my arm.
"I'm here for you, I promise." A tear streams down my check.
Hands cup my shoulders, bringing me to my feet. Slowly and hesitantly, I begin standing up. My eyes don't leave Oliver and I hold my hands to my chest. An arm wraps around my shoulders, guiding me out of the street.
"No, no, no," I mumble, shaking my head.
I sniffle while stepping through the grass, leaning into whoever is next to me. I can't look at anyways faces. I don't want to see anything. The sound of sirens get closer as we walk further away.
"Please, don't leave me, Oliver." I sniffle.
Behind me, I hear the word dead spoken into the air.
At the porch, frantically I jiggle the doorknob, breathing heavily, tears streaming down my checks. Before I give up, falling to my knees, the door opens for me.
"It's okay Tegan. It will be okay." Zayn's voice whisphers.
His arm tightens around my shoulders. He walks me downstairs. He leads me to a bedroom, directing me towards the bed.
"I want to be alone." I whispher.
Zayn's physical contact leaves and I hear the door click.
Inhaling sharply, I feel my chest incaving. My stomach tightens as my shoulders shake slightly. My legs dangle from the bed, my hands still pressing his damaged glasses to my chest.
~~~
Slowly, I stand from the bed, facing the horizontal mirror hanging from the wall. Strands of hair escapes from my braid, my cheeks feel stiff. I glance at the clock on the nightstand, two in the morning.
Behind Zayn's alarm clock, I notice a picture of him with his family. His mum, dad, three sisters all close together in one photograph.
Family.
I glance around his wall, a picture of him and the rest of the boys, grinning, arms around each other.
Friendship.
Oliver was my two in one. Being both my family and my truest, closest friend.
Mental photographs of Oliver sipping hot chocolate during Christmas, standing next to him while caroling or laughing during sleigh rides fill my head. I squeeze my eyes shut, mental images beginning to resurface from my memory. Sledding down snowy hills, homemade snowmen standing tall.
Summer. Fishing trips, pool days, adventuring. Fireworks and s'mores. Two years ago, Oliver attempted to light a firework himself, but he burnt his finger and cried, so I socked his shoulder, so he would forget about his burnt finger. The same summer, I caught the flu, so I couldn't play outside, but Oliver stayed inside with me, keeping me company.
Fall. Leaf piles, jumping hay bales, visiting pumpkin patches. Dressing in "couples" costumes. Dunking for apples and singing to 'Monster Mash'.
Oliver has been there for me through all the times I've had no one else.
My hands clenched into fists by my side. Impulsively, I open my mouth, screaming. I squeeze eyes shut. My voice sounds hoarse, but I yell as loud as I can, straining my vocal cords.
Anger.
Angry towards the entire world. Why would the universe ever attempt to take someone so wholesome? I turn sideways, climbing onto my knees. I pull my arms back, throwing my fists into the middle of the pillows. With each hit, my force increases. Quickly, the action drains my energy, sweat mixing with my tears as the drip down my face.
The pain from my throat temporarily distracting myself from the hurt in my heart.
Hurt.
Two hands clasp my shoulders, turing me away from the pillows, wrapping me into their chest. I close my eyes, leaning my head against his chest, slightly curling myself into a ball.
"I'm here," Zayn's voice softly tells me.
"Z-Zayn?"
"Yes, love?"
"He'll survive, yeah? He's in the hospital and they're going to help him, yeah?"
"I'm not sure, Tegan." He admits, slowly.
"I wish I would have told Oliver he was family."
Silence.
I turn my head up towards him, a single tear streaming down my cheek. Surprisingly, I am met with Zayn's similar looking eyes: glossy and red.
"Why are you crying?" I ask, almost bitterly.
Bitter.
Silence.
I leave his embrace, falling sideways onto the mattress. I sniffle, exhaling deeply. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hands. I squint, staring at the white plastered wall across from me.
"Something whispers in my ear and says," Hesitantly, Zayn's softly sings.
I softly scoff, wiping my eyes once again.
"That you are not alone
For I am here with you
Though you're far away
I am here to stayBut you are not alone
I am here with you
Though we're far apart
You're always in my heart
You are not alone," His hand touches my arm, his thumb softly rubbing back and forth.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to prevent anymore tears from falling.
"For you are not alone
I am here with you
Though we're far apart
You're always in my heart," He repeats.
When he finishes, I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I open my eyes slowly, blinking a couple times. My eyelashes feel matted.
"I guess," I began, my voice hoarse. "We really can lose someone at any moment. So maybe, I should start being more forgiving and open and much less anxious. Not because there is nothing to lose, but because there is everything that can be lost at anytime."
I pause, thinking.
"I'm really glad I met you, Zayn."
~~~
Rest in Peace, Oliver
we love you, boy
yet again, we have lost another fictional character
~Tÿsöñ