three- astonishment

song for this chapter: 'only human' by Jason Mraz

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“To eat or not to eat.” Zayn muttered, eyeing the red berries in his hand with skepticism, a frown etched onto his face.

He had walked for an hour, and the lactic acid had begun to build up in his legs, forcing him to sit in the middle of the dirt road, stretching his legs out, his face tilted towards the sky.

It was the middle of the day, and the sun was shining hard through the leaves, making his throat go dry from the heat and his breaths short and quick. But for the moment he didn’t care about his ailments, or the fact that his life had quickly gone from amazing to crap in four hours.

Zayn had no knowledge of how to identify if berries were poisonous or not. It seemed like watching The Hunger Games once didn’t exactly give you knowledge on whether berries found in the middle of nowhere could be eaten.

He brought them to his nose and smelt them carefully. They didn’t smell poisonous to him. He eyed them for a long moment, and then chucked them in the bush from where they came, continuing to walk.

The hill seemed never ending, but he kept a steady pace, continually turning around to see if a car was driving up the hill, ready to pick him up and take him to a far away town, where he could call Harry and tell him to bring his credit card and phone.

He figured that Harry would be the most understanding to his situation, mainly because Harry sometimes went out and did spontaneous things, sometimes not considering the consequences, because thinking about consequences meant living a safe life.

Harry wasn’t a guy content living with a safe life.

But he knew that whoever he called, whether it be Harry or not, would chastise him for what he’d done. He could imagine himself sitting in the back seat of the car, arms folded, listening as one of the boys scolded him.

No, Zayn didn’t want that.

Maybe he could call Perrie, just to spite her. He would say nothing, while she attempted to talk to him, and make her feel uncomfortable. Then when he got back to his apartment (which would have been theirs together after they got married) and gather all of her stuff and throw it out of the window.

He started to laugh, imagining as she would look up in shock, seeing all of her clothes fall down like leaves in the autumn, and how she would attempt to pick them all up as quickly as she could, embarrassment turning her cheeks red-

Zayn stopped laughing, suddenly feeling guilty, and all the feelings that he had been trying to hold down surfaced and took hold of him, making him feel sick with disgust at himself.

He couldn’t help feeling some pleasure in the thought, because he wanted to get rid of all this pain, and the only way that Zayn could think of doing it was by inflicting it on someone else.

His legs felt like jelly, and his stomach didn’t cease to make gurgling noises, making him clutch at his stomach. His feet were starting to drag against the ground, scuffing his already worn Converse shoes.

“When will this end?” He moaned to himself, smiling slightly at how over dramatic he was. Louis would be proud. Everyone thought that Louis was crazy and random, especially the fans, but in Zayn’s view he was just plain sassy, and sometimes took things too seriously.

He wished the boys were with him now. They would probably all be laughing at how unfit Zayn was, but at least they could get through it together, like they did with everything else.

Zayn was panting, and his legs wanted him to stop, but his mind was telling him to keep on going. He kept his eyes firmly on the ground, not bothering to look up because he knew that the hill would just keep on rising, tormenting him.

His head snapped up as he heard the sound of a motor, and he spun around, seeing a car speeding towards him.

“Hey, wait, stop!” Zayn yelled, waving his hands above his head, relieved that a car was passing by.

The car didn’t seem to be slowing down, and it started to beep at him. Zayn kept on waving his arms, admittedly looking a bit manic, but he was a desperate man. The driver of the car looked worriedly at the rather dishevelled looking boy, wanting him to get out of the way.

“Please, stop!”

But the driver didn’t stop, and Zayn hurriedly got out of the way, the car disappearing in a cloud of dust. He swore at the car, stomping his foot in frustration, hating his unluckiness.

Why did this all have to happen to him? He was the one who got broken up with; he was the one that was stranded! He continued to swear loudly as he kept on walking, not realising that he had reached ground level.

He kept walking for another half an hour, or maybe it might have been more or less, Zayn had no sense of time whatsoever. It was just looking down at the ground, seeing the brown dirt, an occasional twig, and even a few loose pebbles here and there. He also managed to see quite a lot of animal droppings.

He stopped, and sat down, his legs giving in. He didn’t know what he was going to do, and he felt a little scared. He probably should be looking for water if he was going to be stuck out here, but he had no clue on how to find it.

Looking around, he was once reminded of how serene this place was. Other than his harsh breathing, it was quiet. There were sounds of birds singing to each other and bugs buzzing, but other than that there was nothing.

He was so used to hearing things all the time: even at night he heard the cars drive past his apartment, or the gentle tick of the clock above his bed. It was nice, hearing nothing.

He frowned as he noticed a break in the trees to his left, which didn’t seem natural to him. He groaned as he pulled himself up, some of his joints making popping sounds.

Zayn looked up and down the road again, but there were no cars in sight. He sighed.

“You’ve got nothing to lose.” Zayn muttered, and starting walking down the path.

It was obvious to him that this had been man-made, as the trees were all an even distance apart, and the path seemed rather well kept. If he had passed this in his car he wouldn’t have noticed it, since the gap was small at the start before widening out a couple of metres.

In a rush of relief, he finally saw it: a house.

Zayn didn’t know very much about houses, but he couldn’t help but admire the mainly white two-story Tudor house, with smoke billowing out of the chimney. It was simple, and the only sign that a person was living there was the cup of steaming tea on a table on the wooden verandah, which wrapped around the front of the house.

It was quaint, but it looked worn and sturdy. It had been made with a lot of love, and a lot of craftsmanship.

He thought he saw something in the window, and frowned, squinting. There was nothing there. He looked around, hoping someone would come out to greet him, but there was no movement.

Gulping, he walked to the door, feeling his car keys jabbing into his thigh painfully. He took them out and put them in his back pocket, just hoping that they wouldn’t fall out.

The door was simple, and Zayn rapped his knuckles against it, hearing it sound sharply.

“Hello? Is anyone home?” He said loudly, cocking his ear towards the door, waiting to hear the pitter-patter of feet, but none came.

He tried knocking again, and he began to look around, peering into windows. He pressed his face against the glass, feeling some temporary relief at the cool material. He could only see a couch in one of the rooms, with a fireplace on the far side.

“AHH!”

A sharp smack echoed around the area of the house, and Zayn yelled, immediately covering his head, thinking that he was getting attacked by a bear, and that he was going to die, that it was going to happen-

“Get off my property!”

Whilst covering his face from being attacked by a stick (well, more like a log), Zayn caught glimpses of his attacker, and noted immediately that it definitely was not a bear.

“Wait, please, I’m not going to hurt you!” Zayn yelled, backing into the side of the house, already feeling the bruises starting to form on his back and shoulders.

She held the abnormally large stick over her head, ready to swing again, panting heavily. Her green eyes were wide, looking at him with skepticism and fear. She was of average height, and her skin was tanned, looking like she spent a lot of time in the sun. Her almost blonde-brown hair was tied back in a tight ponytail at the base of her neck.

“Who are you?” She asked, her voice cold, and not as high as Zayn thought it would be.

“I’m Zayn.”He said, still ready to protect himself if she decided to flip out on him again. He wondered why she was so protective; it wasn’t like he was trying to break in or anything.

“Why are you here?” Apprehension was obvious in her voice, and Zayn kept his tone calm, seeing her arms shake slightly from holding the log above her head.

“My car broke down; I was just looking to borrow a telephone.” Zayn said, and she finally lowered her arms, still keeping the log in her hands, though.

“I don’t have a telephone.” She said slowly, and she didn’t look so apprehensive, making Zayn relax a little.

But then he heard her words and mentally groaned. He bit his lip.

“Do you have a computer, or any means of communication?” He asked, sounding a bit desperate, since, well, he was desperate.

She shook her head. “There’s no electricity out here.”

Zayn’s eyes widened. “No electricity? How do you live?”

Her head tilted to the side, seemingly confused by his question, and his shock. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

Zayn kept his mouth shut, unable to think of a response to her direct words. They stood there for a while, and he lowered his hands from his face, feeling hopelessness rise up in him.

“Do you know anything about cars?” Zayn asked, crossing his fingers behind his back.

“No, I don’t.” She said, turning and placing the log down on the verandah carefully. At least she wouldn’t attack him, Zayn thought bitterly, cursing his damned situation.

“God, what am I going to do?” He muttered to himself, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“I don’t think God can help you right now.” The girl said, a serious look on her face.

“I know that.” Zayn sighed, trying to be angry, but failing miserably. It took so much work to be angry, and all he wanted now was a glass of water and some food.

The girl watched him with interest now, seeming unashamed by how intensely she was looking at him. He squirmed a little, feeling uncomfortable. She took a step closer to him.

“I haven’t seen a person in a very long time.” She said, like this was a very well-known fact.

“What do you mean?” Zayn asked, stiffening as she took another step closer and looked at the tattoos running down his arm. “Do you live here by yourself?”

“Yes.” She answered, not looking at him, but keeping her eyes focused on his arm.

“But don’t you see people when you go out shopping?” Zayn asked, and she stepped back suddenly, looking at him warily, like he was a wild animal.

“I’ve got all that I need here.” She said simply, looking around the veranda with a sense of pride.

Zayn could think of a million other questions to ask her, but he was stunned by her simple and confusing answers. How could she live out here by herself, with no electricity or form of communication?

“Are you going to leave? I have things that I need to tend to.” The girl said, looking at Zayn with unconcealed inquisitiveness.

“What do you mean?” He asked, feeling confused and dizzy from lack of food and water.

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking for someone to help you?” She asked.

“I am, I just...” Zayn trailed off, unsure what to say.

“Then I think you should leave. I can’t help you.” She stated, not looking even a little apologetic.

Zayn looked and felt crestfallen. He couldn’t think of what to do, and if he were thinking rationally then he wouldn’t have kept on talking. He would have turned around and waited by his car, looking eagerly for a car coming towards him.

“Please, I need a place to stay, I have no idea where I am, I don’t know what I’m doing-”Zayn rambled on, trying to appeal to the weird girl’s sense of compassion, wherever it was hiding.

“Fine.” The girl said, holding up a hand. “Just stay out of my way, and this will work.”

Zayn was confounded by how quickly she succumbed to his begging, and just nodded his head in agreement. She looked him up and down, her eyes questioning, and there was that childish curiosity in her eyes that was so different to the cold harshness of her tone and manner.

She turned to leave, but a question came to Zayn’s mind, one that he needed to be answered.

“Wait, what’s your name?”

She turned back to him, and the corners of her lips twitched, as if she were going to smile.

“My name is Iris.”

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-picture of Iris on side-

and Iris is finally introduced! tell me what you all think of her, and of the chapter.

gah Jason Mraz... memories of my childhood fill my head everytime i listen to him, and i adore this song.

this chapter is dedicated to @shinynewthing who always writes lovely comments, thank you!

finally finished exams, so lots of time for writing ;)

Sara xx