Yes this is another One Direction fanfiction. Deal with it.
Click the picture of young Niall crying to listen to the song that does with this story (it opens in a new tab).
It’s been three years.
Three years today.
I compare the dates.
Back then: October 12th, 2025.
Now: October 12th, 2028.
I don’t want to face the world.
It hurts too much.
I can’t bear it.
The sun shone through my window, burning my bleach blonde haired head. I could tell by the position of the sun that it was probably past noon. I buried my face under the covers, attempting to escape the long day that awaited me. It had been three years, seven hundred and thirty days, but that didn’t mean that it had gotten any easier.
My bedroom door creaked open and my seven year old daughter, Mollie, tiptoed into my bedroom.
“Daddy?” She questioned, climbing on top of my bed.
“Yes, Mollie?” I replied, my voice cracking as I spoke for the first time today.
“Are you okay?”
I closed my eyes, not trusting myself to speak.
“Yeah.” I said, my voice warbling from beneath the covers as I heard someone else walk into the room.
“Hey, Mollie? Why don’t you go downstairs and see if Mina can make you some breakfast?” My friend Zayn said, referring to the scent of food that was now wafting up from downstairs, presumably coming from his wife, Mina.
“Okay, Uncle Zayn!” Mollie said, cheerfully hopping off my bed and skipping out of the room.
No sooner than Mollie had left the room, when the sheets flew off of my body.
"Get up.” Zayn demanded.
“No.” I grumbled, taking my pillow from underneath my head and sticking it on top of my face in place of my sheets.
“Damnit, Niall! You can’t keep doing this!” said Zayn, raising his voice.
“I have every right to.” I said into my pillow, my closed eyes pressed against the cool cotton.
“It’s been three years, Niall! You have to get over yourself!” said Zayn.
“It’s been three years, Niall! You have to get over yourself!” said Zayn.
I yanked the pillow off my head and looked at him – his dark brown eyes were worried, while his eyebrows screamed “mad”. He had a three-quarter length shirt on, revealing his many forearm tattoos because of his crossed arms. He towered over me, just like he would even if I was standing up.
“Get over myself?” I asked, my voice shaking. Zayn looked around the room, air flaring out of his angry nostrils.
“What about Mollie? She misses you.” He said, his voice softened a bit. “She often asks what happened to her Daddy.” He sucked in his breath, as if to think that he had gone too far.
I sat up, staring into Zayn’s brown eyes, which were a deeper color currently.
“You don’t know what it’s like. You have it all so easy. Well guess what? I don’t. Get out.” I said, my voice barely steady as I clenched my fists.
“Get out!” I yelled, standing up.
Zayn gave me a sad look before leaving the room, as if to say I tried. I closed the door behind him and slid down it to the carpet.
I sat there in my boxers, staring at the door. I traced patterns in the dark finish of the wood. My hand trembled as I saw the names carved in bottom left corner of the door. I traced the names with my index finger before closing my eyes.
“Niall! Let’s put our names here!”
“You silly goose. Why should we do that? We just moved in!”
“So it can be set in stone- well, wood - that we’ll be forever.”
I quickly opened my eyes and stood up, walking over to my dresser. I pulled out a T-shirt and jeans and pulled them on, trying not to look at the door. I yanked on my Supras and grabbed a hoodie. I took my wallet off the top of the dresser, but not before seeing my reflection in my mirror – I had dark circles under my eyes, and my hair had a mind of its own. With that in mind, I put my wallet in my back pocket and put on my hoodie, covering my bedhead.
I zipped my hoodie up as I ran downstairs. I walked into kitchen to see my daughter eating her breakfast while Mina talked to her and Zayn washed dishes. Mina quickly stood up with wide eyes when I entered the room.
“Niall.” She said, clearing her throat. Zayn looked up from the sink, as did Mollie from her plate.
I stared at them for a bit before saying “I’m going out for a while.”
“Where?” Zayn asked, grabbing a towel to dry a dish.
“Somewhere.” I said, staring at my sneakers.
“Okay, well when will you be ba-“
“I have to go.” I said, turning away and heading towards the door.
“Wait!” A little girl’s voice called and I stopped in my tracks.
“Can I come with you, Daddy?” Mollie tugged on the sleeve of my hoodie.
I swallowed, not wanting to turn around.
“No.” I said firmly, prying her small hands off my sleeve. I turned around to look at her. She stared up at me
and into my eyes with hers. Her eyes. Just like her mother’s.
“I’ll be back soon.” I said, and I turned to walk out the door, grabbing my messenger bag off its hook on the way out.
Before I did though, I heard Zayn comforting Mollie –
“Why is Daddy leaving?”
“He just needs some time alone, Molls.”
“Why? I love Daddy.”
“And he loves you. But he loves other people too.”
I weaved through the stones popping up from the ground. Although I had been in a hurry earlier, I was in no rush now. No rush to get there, to feel pain and no rush to leave, to abandon.
I had now walked this way for three years, so it was impossible for the path to not be embedded in my mind.
I counted the rows. 12, 13, 14…until I reached 15. Row fifteen, column six. I turned left, making my way down the grass. Then I stopped. Column six. I slowly turned to my right. There it was.
I fell to my knees. I looked around for people and when I saw none, I spoke.
“Hi.” I said to the stone.
I brought my legs forward from underneath me so I was sitting with them crossed. I reached behind me for my bag, unzipping the top zipper and bringing out a smaller plastic bag from inside.
“Want some food?” I asked, staring at the writing on the stone in front of me.
Hannah Jane Horan. January 18th, 1994 – October 12th, 2025.
“…and Mollie can swim now. She learned over the summer.” I finished my long story along with my sandwich.
I bit my lip and studied the marble rock in front of me, as I had for three years.
“She’s taking ballet classes. She’s pretty good,” my voice cracked, “just like you.”
I ran a hand through my hair.
“Zayn says she remembers you.”
My bottom lip trembled. My eyes clouded up.
“He also says that she asks what happened to me.”
There was no stopping the tears now.
“I miss you so much, I miss you sleeping next to me in bed, I miss your warmth, and I miss your voice. If I hadn’t let you go out that night, you would still be here with me. I wish I could turn back time and save you. It hurts knowing you’ll never see Mollie grow up. That you’ll never see her dance like you do. That we’ll never talk again. We’ll never grow old together. I just want you back home, Hannah. I wish I could’ve been the one in that car instead of you. You weren’t supposed to leave me and Mollie. And it’s all my fault because I didn’t stop you. I’m scared, Hannah. I don’t know how I’m going to live without you. I don’t feel complete, and I don’t know what to do. There’s this big hole in my heart that no one can fix and it just hurts-“ I broke off, tears streaming down my face.
I leaned my head into my hands in front of me, gasping for my breath, but my throat was completely closed up. I couldn’t breathe. I felt faint, the pain in my chest overpowering me. The darkness that was now starting to cover the entire graveyard also entered my heart, leaving me empty.
“Help me, Hannah. I can’t do this. Please come back, I need you!” I cried out, in hopes that my words would come to life.
I curled up into a ball on the stiff grass, the wind biting at my tear stained face, and fell asleep hoping she was in my arms when in reality, I was just a hopeless cause with nothing left to hope for.
“I just want one more night.”
The temperature had dropped severely before I woke up, leaving me shivering when I did. I sat up, realizing that it was probably past nine, judging by the darkness surrounding me. I wiped some dirt off that had stuck to my cheek, checking around to see if anyone was present. There was still nobody, just like earlier. No people, questioning my sanity and no workers, ready to call the cops.
I packed up the trash of my earlier lunch into my bag, my breath showing in front of my face as I did. I zipped up my bag, but reached into the side pocket for one last thing.
I carefully laid a single red rose in front of the grave.
“They say that they’re the meaning of true love.” I said, standing up.
I stood there for a moment before leaning forward and kissing the top of the stone gently.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The voice came out of nowhere, but before I could think anything of it, another one spoke. And this one wasn’t as soft.
“Oi! It’s after hours! What d’you fink you’re doin’?” A man yelled in a thick Cockney accent.
I quickly spun around to see a guard coming straight at me. Without thinking twice, I ran down the rest of row fifteen and away from the man. He shouted some profanities at me, but I was out of the area before he could do anything else.
I slowed my pace as I made it to the parking lot. I got in my car and let out my breath. Had that really just happened? What had I just heard? I thought, but I didn’t ponder on it long or else I would break down again. I realized that the guard might or might not still be looking for me, so I put the key in the engine and keeled out of the lot.
I knew what I had to do.
As I pulled into my driveway, I noticed all the lights were off. I could just quietly let myself in and go to bed. I sat in my seat for a second, staring into space, before getting out of the car and heading towards the door.
I inserted my key in the lock and turned it – it quietly clicked, and I let myself in. I hung my bag and hoodie on a rack and tiptoed further into my house. I was ready to go upstairs when my stomach grumbled, reminding me that I had not had dinner yet. I walked into the kitchen to grab something to eat, and instead I found Zayn there, cleaning tonight’s dishes.
When I entered the room, he looked up. His face crumpled up and he put his towel down.
“Shh!” Mina interrupted, coming out of nowhere and placing one hand on his chest. She motioned upwards, Mollie being the reason for her stopping his yelling.
“I’ll be waiting in the car.” She said, heading outside and closing the door quietly.
“Do you know what time it is?” Zayn whispered loudly.
“Actually…I don’t.” I said, scratching the back of my head.
He crossed his arms and moved aside of my view so I could see the oven clock. I got closer. 10:45. Oops.
“We were all worried sick about you! Where the hell where you?” He said, sitting down on a kitchen stool.
I let out a deep breath. I walked to the counter across from him and leaned against it.
“Here’s what happened.”
I told him about everything that had happened at the graveyard. He raised his eyebrows when I told him what I heard. When I was done, we were both silent for a minute.
Zayn bit his lip then said “So…?”
“So…I think this is a sign.” I replied.
“What?” He crinkled his eyebrows.
“I think she was trying to tell me something. I think she’s trying to tell me to move on. She wouldn’t want me in this condition, and she doesn’t want Mollie to have me like this. So I’m done. I’m gonna make her proud.”
Zayn was quiet for a minute, but then he got up from his seat and wrapped his arms around me.
“Good job, man.” He said.
I smiled for the first time in a while.
Shortly after, Zayn left to go home with Mina. I had a snack or two, and then went upstairs to get ready for bed. I passed Mollie’s room then stopped. I walked back and quietly entered her room.
It was dark, but her butterfly nightlight illuminated her face. I knelt down beside her bed and studied her. She was sound asleep, her mouth slightly agape. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she dreamt. Her dishwater blonde hair had fallen down into face, which I gently tucked behind her ear. She looked like an exact copy of her mother. I gazed at her in wonder, thinking of how lucky I was. I then kissed her on the
forehead, and fell asleep on the carpet.
It’s still hard.
But I’ll survive.
For you and Mollie.
I love you, Hannah.
Please let me know what you thought of this! I worked on it for a long time! Thank you for reading!
Note: my friend Mollie nearly wet her pants crying and saying "**** you" because she was so emotional because it's her name and Molls is what her mom calls her and yeah. LOVE YOU MOLLIE.