Third Person's POV

Niall sees it everyday, everything is a repetition of the day before, or well, the same day.

He sees a curly headed lad falling into ruins. He sees him when he drags a menacing tool across his previously spotless porcelain skin, when he cries blood and tears, when he struggles to clean what he ruined from himself, when he sits alone and his demons haunt him. He sees him when he's broken, everyday. When Niall tried to so as much as to reach a hand out to him, he'd get burned. A feeling that rises from the pit of his stomach to his throat, and it's sheer hot pain; Niall retracts from what he oh so desperately wanted to do, help Harry, help his boyfriend.

He sees himself screaming profanities at a still hooded figure. He sees himself spitting gruesome words that would surely bruise a soul for an eternity. He sees himself slap and kick the hazy figure. When the adrenaline and craziness is pumped out of his body, the figure slowly clears, and it's Harry, his broken boyfriend.

Niall doesn't know why he's seeing this, why does he have to see it again, he already memorized it. When it's Harry's part of the scenario, he feels Harry's pain, and it's so intense, he just wants whatever's going on with him to stop.

When he's in his own part, the amount of self-hate one can have intensifies by a whole new level. How can he do this to Harry, how? Or more importantly, why?

He doesn't know.

When Niall couldn't take what he called his other side, he did the first thing that came to his tormented mind.

,

.

And for the last part in Niall's twisted show, he saw it. He agonizingly watched it happen. When he thought he could take the burning pain and try and reach out to Harry, he was mistaken. It was literally fire that stopped him, and he couldn't bypass fire. He saw how he prepared the rope, how he tightened the loop that was suspended from the ceiling. How he stood on a wooden stool, placed his head in the circular part of the rope, and stoically, let go.

Niall, still scarred by what he witnessed, was too afraid to go and see if it really happened. He hoped it hadn't, that he was just dreaming.

To his horror, it did. Harry was dead.

Like today, everything fell in ruins.

A/N~~~~~~~~~~~

I promise this wasn't what I had planned when I first started this.

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