Not Your Average Girl (Niall Love story)

I truged throught the thick, wet, gray slush that coated the side walk in my worn-out converse that were already soaked. I disliked this side of winter, not to mention the cold. I only had my old sweater on, so I was freezing. Tomorrow it was supposed to be even colder, so all the slush would be ice in the morning. I heard the famillair song "That's What Makes you Beautiful" by One Direcction as I passed a music store. It was catchy, not to mention pretty popular. But I couldnt afford music, being a street kid.

Yes I was a street kid. I hadnt been for long, only about a month, but it felt like a life time to me. I wasn't you're sterotipicall drugs-and-drink street kid, though. I didnt drink, smoke, do drugs, or do anything illegal. Most improtantly, I still had my virginity. I used to cut, but I don't any more. I lived with my friend, Samantha, for awhlie, but she moved to America for her father's job. I would not let them bring me, I just turned seventeen a few months ago, I could take  care of myself, just as I had for first sixteen years of my life.

The constant neglect started when I was around five, and I hadn't really been cared for before then. The abuse started when I was nine or ten, and it just kept getting worse, as my mom was drunk ninety percent of the time, and when she was sober, she was always yelling at me for being a mistake and why I didn't deserve to live. My father on the other hand, was drunk fifty perent of the time, and the other fifty percent he was high on some illegal drug, but one hundred pecent of the time beating me.

I yanked myself out of the past, as it would only bring nightmares, memories. Asuming I actually got to sleep. It was getting dark out, so I decided I needed to find a dry, concealed place to spend the night. I tried to change places every night, but I always found myself heading back to the same place every evening. It was an old abandond building, the very oldest in London to be exact. It was so beautiful, and if you climed to the highest floor, and looked out behind an old scarlet curtain, there would be a large hole in the wall. And out that hole you could see all the beautiful lights of the cars and buildings of London. The Big Ben and the London Eye looked brilliant in the dark.

I crawled to the corner and layed there, and pulled up the corner of the curtain. It was cold, but the beauty made me feel all warm inside. I looked at the ground and saw a black limosuine pull up to a building across the street. I had fogotton that there was a music studio across from my little hiding place. I saw five young lads come out, and reconised them as One Direction. I watched all five lads climb out of the fancy vehicle. One caught my eye, the blonde. I believe his name is Niall. Our eyes met for a second, and I closed the curtain. I tried to sleep, but my mind kept wandering back to Niall. After fatiguee took over, I had an unpleasant dream, but it didn't involve my mother or father.

"Delila," Judy, the assistant manager of Annie's Art Supplies called my name for atleast the hundreth time today.

"Yes?" What could she possibly want now?

"Anne would like to talk to you in her office," I walked through a door that read "MANAGER" on the front.

"Delila? This is the third time you have been late this week," Anne stated. I didn't have an alarm, because I lived on the street now. It was all so new, it was lucky I hadn't died yet.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen-" I started, but Anne interupted me.

"No, we have work to do here, and we need an employee that can be here on time to get the work done, I'm sorry, but you are fired," Crap! I was reyling on the income for this job to survive.

I woke up shaking, because this memory was particularly brutal to remember. Art was my savoir, I had been good at it since I was a kid. After my parents were through with me I drew all my anger and sadness out, and it made me feel better, physically and emotinally. I got a thirty five percent discount at the shop, and I would use my extra money to buy things, like pencils and paper. But after I lost the job, I lost the pencils, and the paper got wet, so I sort of feel Like the living dead, with out my art.

I walked down the steps, being carful. Reminding myself, don't trip, don't trip. I was a klutz, so I never went to dances, or parties. I wasn't really invited to parties, though. I didn't call myself a nerd, but looking back, I probably was. Samantha was my best friend, we had most classes together, and we were so simalar. But Sam was the one to be invited to parties, go to dances, have boyfriends. I was the one to stay home studying on a Friday night. Soon Sam and I grew apart, finding our own crowds, eating at different lunch tables. It felt like she didn't even notice me, at school. At home we were like twins.

When I made it outside, the sidewalk was coated in shining ice. Great, more stuff for me to slip on. I decided to go to a public restroom, to clean up and use the toilet. I walked in and looked at my reflection. My dark brown hair hung aroung my face, looking very unhealthy. My dull brown eyes had purple-ish bags under them. I quickly did my business and left.

I marched outside and hoped not to slip. Absorbed in my own thoughts, I didnt notice the space around myself and banged into some one.

It was Niall Horan.

Go to http://www.polyvore.com/normal_day_delila/set?id=69426114 to see Delila's outfit