Change My Mind (A Niall Horan FanFic)
At home, I remember the hearth in the bakery, that warmed the whole place. When Cay and Clidhna were bickering, and You, Carrie sat in the corner, with a small book, unaware of the whole world. I didn't know you well then, when I was about seven. I remember your waves falling over your face, and the way you always edged the small armchair closer to the Bakery kitchen's fire, as you never felt the heat. Even your sisters screaming would not tear you away from your own little world. I never spoke to the you, until I was about eight. I was afraid of ruining your peace with the world, and I can guess I've done much more than that now.
I don't know what drew me to you, I was like a moth to a flame. Your curious sea blue eyes, sandy hair and delicate features scared me, you always seemed like a china doll. As we grew closer, I discovered that this young girl could do perfect sums in her head, sums that the rest of the class would struggle to do on paper. You didn't seem like a little girl from Mullingar. You talked in a strange way to the rest of the little girls. Not in a taunting way, but a soft, intelligant way. Your Mammy wasn't fussed on you in going to the Grammar School, We all knew, but your father was a smart man and could see himself that you, dear Carrie had a good heart, and would not become, 'all stuck up' as her mother put it.
When everyone else was at discos, having fun, you preferred to read, and dance in your room. Some boys at school said I was a right headcase, hanging about a Geek. But Carrie, you were so much more than that, I knew. You were special, and I knew I had to protect you, because you were not quick tongued or cruel enough to fight you own battles. I remember dancing with you on the night of the disco, and the way you lit up as I tried to keep up with your fast, swift feet on the dancefloor.
I still think about that awful night, where you looked at me so scornfully, that It would have made a grown man tear up. I was so horrible to hear, but I knew there was no other way I could leave, without poor you worrying, and failing your exams. I needed you to forget about me, to do well, so that one little piece of me would stay normal, stay sane. That one person would not remember me as Niall Horan, A fifth of One Direction, Superstar, but Carrie Oakley's best friend, the boy from Mullingar. I remember rejecting you. I couldn't let her you me off, I couldn't let you see me weak. I was meant to protect you, how could I show any sign that I lacked strenghth? I confused you, messed with your head. I regret leaving you, Carrie..
I expected a call, or a text, or even some letters from you. But no, you turned your back the day I left. I left a gift in our special place, below our tree, where we carved our initials. C.O+,N.H, I wonder do you even remember? Of course you do, I often try to tell myself, but these years have been a struggle enough for you.
Clidhna was killed in a car accident, on her way home from a night out, a few weeks ago. She was buried next to your father, who passed away two weeks after I left. I returned for both funerals, but decided not to disturb your mourning. Two important people in your life, and I couldn't even look you in the eye to tell you I was sorry for her loss. I'm such a coward.
Mammy says that I'd feel better if I'd say my peace. But how can I, when no one will say where you are? They say you live in New York, and Your Mammy going to send this letter to you, Carrie. I know you don't want to talk, but I do. I need to, Carrie. I need to ask questions.
Why did you drop out of school?
Why did you leave home?
Did you fall in love, Carrie?
Does he treat you better than I did?
Did you dance again? Or sing?
Where are you Carrie Oakley?
Please, Just Please, write back Carrie, I'll be happy then, and I'll leave you alone.
I read the letter over and over, and then folded it, putting it away, incase my tears ruined it. Why had I gone off the rails? I'd no reason to stay on them, after Niall left, and Daddy died. Clidhna died on Daddy's birthday. I live in New York, In a studio apartment. I work in broadway, writing songs and prompting. The money's stuffy, but I have enough to live by. I share an apartment with Kila, who sings and dances on broadway. I can't dance anymore, I'm always out of time with the music, I can't be free anymore.
Being away from home isn't easy, but it's twice as easy as being at home. I quit school after my exams, not going on to do lower and upper sixth. I had to earn money, I didn't want to stick around long after my father's sudden death, not there, I had too many bad memories. Mammy didn't want me to leave, I know she didn't. I broke her heart.
I got this letter six months ago. I know Niall's in New York tomorrow, for the US tour. Kila's got tickets, for me, her and Ashley. I don't know why I'm going. I guess..I'm homesick.
Not of Mullingar, no.
Of smart, kind, fun Carrie, who never had much to care about.
Other than Niall Horan.