~Madeline Payne~
Hours. Long, painful hours. They were hours that I dreaded each and every second of. I listened to the old grandfather clock chime each hour. I'm thankful for that clock. It allowed me to hold onto my sanity. I'm not going insane, or I don't think I am at least. The clock chimes one additional time, my body jumping in fright. I wasn't expecting the loud noise.
Soon after the sanity-grasping chime, the door below me creaks open. I quiet my breathing, hoping and praying that Kellen isn't home. The footsteps, light like a cat's, calm me. Kellen isn't here.
Letting out a breath of relief, I close my eyes. Memories flood into my head. Memories of before, just days ago. No longer am I mad at Zayn. He was right, and I was too stupid to realize the creature living in this old farmhouse. A monster, a pitiful excuse for a human, he is.
I remember the first kiss shared between Zayn and I. It was almost like a dream, something that could never be recreated. He took me to a waterfall, one laced with ivy and clematises naturally arranged in a breathtaking display that could improperly be described as melodic. The flowers and greenery came together like notes of a song, elegantly and seamlessly. Zayn danced me along the rocks to an old country song. I felt like a princess dancing with her true love. At the end of the song, Zayn pulled me close, our faces mere inches apart and carefully rested his lips upon mine. I was his princess.
Tears nip at my eyes like little dogs as you try to walk through the door of their owner's house. The memory is so strong, so vivid. It seemed like just yesterday we were dancing in front of that beautiful waterfall. Heck, just yesterday, I was in this same seat, just a bit less hungry and tired.
As I listen to the footsteps more carefully, I discover that there is not only one person here, but two. I bite my lip, a mixture of uncomfortable emotions filling me.
"Madeline?" Someone whispers gently, the attic door creaking open. The blonde boy that I have been hoping for enters the cold, dreary space.
"Niall, who's with you?" I croak, my voice shaky and weak.
And now, just as fast as my fear left, a gasp escapes my lips. My eyes opened wide, I stare at the figure stepping forward. My heart beats faster than a sports car in a drag race as I sit, my hands and ankles still bound to the cold wooden chair beneath me. His voice. Oh his voice. It still sends my stomach into a fit and makes my heart pound against my chest. His voice. It's like he's never done wrong. It's an apology for everything, but a confession to nothing. It's only now that I know what true love is, and that I have already fortunately come across it.
"Princess," He breathes in shock. He crowned me his princess when he danced me around that waterfall.
The love in his words hits me hard, not as a slap in the face, but as a warm and calming embrace. Tears nip at my eyes, the warmth becoming too much for my confused heart to handle.
When I feel his arms ever so gently wrap around me, the tears flood down my face like Niagara Falls. His lips touch mine and a fire begins to burn wild with passion, the love so strong it could take over the world in a day and still have the power to run a marathon just seconds later. The love we had shared before, it was never this powerful. It's like a match was reunited with a spark that lingered years ago in its presence, just hoping and praying to set alight a raging fire.
"I'm sorry." The words leave his lips the minute they disconnect from mine.
"Uh, guys. This reunion is great and all, a little gushy is you ask me, but we need to get out of here," the blonde boy interrupts, his voice quiet, awkwardness radiating through the situation. He runs a hand through his hair and let's out a breath before speaking again, "Zayn, help me untie her. Try to hurry."
Momentarily, both boys are trying to untie the ropes holding me from leaving. Zayn is slower than Niall, less successful. The black haired boy keeps looking up at me with a smile and sparkling, love-filled eyes.
When all of the ropes are on the floor, Zayn pulls me up into another hug, this one bone crushing. I breathe in the smell that I have come to love, cinnamon and freshly picked apples. When he releases me, I find myself longing for his embrace, his love, the warmth he gives me.
"Let's go Madeline, Zayn. We need to leave before Dad gets back," Niall sighs with a shake of the head. He rushes out the door.
Taking a step to follow, I notice how weak I am. My legs shake trying to hold my body up. Pushing myself to walk, I crumble to the ground in failure. A string of curse words make their way past Zayn's lips as he picks me up, cradling my small body in his arms.
"I've got you Princess," He whispers, following the blonde out the door and down the stairs. The house looks the same, just littered heavier with garbage and dust.
When we reach the main entrance, Niall is waiting, a look of displeasure spread across his face. The moment I see tears glistening in his blue eyes, my heart crumbles like a cookie being stepped on.
"Niall, what's wrong?" I question, pushing myself out of Zayn's arms, but keeping a hand on his shoulder for support.
Niall pushes his lips into a straight line slowly, shaking his head. "Nothing Madeline. We need to hurry." As he speaks, the crisp crunch of tires on gravel echoes around me.
"What are we going to do now, Niall?" Zayn's words are rushed, laced with concern.
"I don't know! I don't know!" He replies, throwing a fist at the floral printed wall. "Just run for it!" He continues, opening the door.
Before I know it, I'm swept up off my feet again and wind lightly whips against my face as Zayn runs behind Niall.
"Look at you, you little traitor!" A man yells. Kellen. Shoot. This can't end well.
None of us speak. I look up at Zayn who I can tell is struggling to carry me. Tears of fear linger deep within his eyes as his bottom lip lightly trembles.
"Put me down, Zayn. I think I can run myself."
He pants, obviously needing a breath and break from running, "No. I'm not risking losing you again."
Yet again, no words are spoken. The only sounds are three sets of feet knocking fiercely against the ground. The third, I pray is feet or maybe even yards behind.
"You're not getting away!" That voice. That oh so terrifying voice. It sends shivers up my spine as I shake in fear. The ground begins to crunch as Zayn runs through a field, and I worry that he will fall, resulting in our capture.
Falling, though, isn't what I should be worried about, for a single gunshot rings out against the crisp early Autumn air.
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So here is is!!! An update! It's been so long, I know! I apologize!
I will hopefully be updating for frequently from now on.
I go for a shot in my back Tuesday, though, and get my drivers permit on the 8th. Oh, and turn 15. Yay!
Anywho, What do you think is going to happen next?
Follow me on Twitter: 8maddyelizabeth. You can reach me there pretty much anytime!
Thanks for reading!
maddy