Tears Of Anger And Sorrow

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Louis' P. O. V.

"We're over, Louis," Samantha said before she walked away. I stood there, totally numb. It was like I was empty inside. I felt anger, but most of all, I wanted actually to cry. I didn't even kiss Peyton! She kissed me, she said she wanted to tell me something.

That's very immature. That's things we did in kindergarten, but obviously some people still. Suddenly I came back to reality and ran after Samantha.

"Sorry," I mumbled to the people who were in my way. Just as I came out, I saw Samantha. Why for God's sake was she standing in the middle of the road. "Samantha!"

She didn't turn around. It was then I saw it. An old car coming against her. Before I could even shout, she was hit. Her body was thrown at the hood, then she roller over the car and fell to the ground. The car continued to drive, but I didn't care about the fucking car. I ran over to Samantha and went down on my knees next to her head.

It was blood everywhere. Her head and hair was smeared with the dark red liquid. She was unconscious, and I could barely feel her breath when I held my ear against her mouth. People crowded around us.

"Somebody call 911!" I forced. My voice was shivering with fear, sadness and anger. Anger for what Peyton did, and the fact that there were paparazzies that actually took pictures of us. Had people no sympathy at all?

The next events all happened in a blur. The ambulance came, two men picked up Samantha. She reminded me of a doll. Her body was just... hanging. The sight on the ground made a twist in my tummy. The asphalt was full of blood.

It had never been a problem for me to see blood before. Not on films, or the time I played football and a big boy knocked in my nose so I started to bleed, and even lost consciousness. This time was different, because now it was the girl I loved with my entire heart.

The picture of the blood filled my head the whole way to the hospital. I sat on a bench in the ambulance, holding Samantha's bloody hand.

The next second, I was in a white room with light green curtains and a red sofa. A dark woman told me to wait. She said she was going to call my family.

I shook my head. "My family won't help. Call my manager, Paul," I said and gave her the number.

She looked confused at me. "Manager?" she asked.

"One of five in One Direction," I said quickly. "Can you please call?" I needed to be with someone other than myself. I needed the boys. If just Peyton could stay away.

After some minutes, an old man with green clothes came into the waiting room. He was obviously a surgeon.

"How is she?" I asked.

He took a deep breath. This couldn't be good. The news was not good.

*~*~*

Harry's P. O. V.

"Can you drive any faster?" Harry asked Paul. The boys and him were sitting in the car. Mark, Tory and Peyton as well. Paul was driving.

"Sorry, Harry, but no," Paul answered.

Harry had tears his my eyes. All the boys cried. So did him. Tory too. Harry wanted to comfort her. They weren't together anymore, but he still cared for her.

Even though Harry told himself many times that Samantha was going to be fine, He couldn't stop worrying. Niall had told them (Harry and the boys+the management) about what happened with her, Peyton and Louis. Harry felt despise every time he looked at Peyton. She'd hurt Samantha, and Louis too!

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