Hurt

Chapter 10

I wait for a few seconds. No answer.

I rap on the door again impatiently, shifting my weight from foot to foot, biting my lip agressively.

I hear footsteps inside at last. I feel really jittery and clammy.

I can't remember the last time I was this terrified talking to a guy. Especially Niall, who is about as scary as a koala bear..or a penguin..or a puppy.

The door opens and it's Niall's mum, Maura. She's either my substitute mum for when mine isn't around, or, she's the crazy aunt that I've never had. She switches between roles.

I smile at her but she doesn't smile back.

I feel unatural talking to Maura as she stares at me coldly. She's never looked at me with such a look before. It was like I was a bug and she was longing to squash me with her boot. Or a fly swatter.

I shift uncomfortabley. I clear my throat awkwardly. So far, this isn't going as I had planned. Wait. I didn't even have a plan! What am I going to do?!

"H-hi Maura? Is Niall here?" I ask, sounding so nervous, that all my sentences turn out like questions.

She glares at me.

"I'm afraid that Niall isn't feeling well. He won't be seeing you for a while, Mr. Styles." Maura has never before called me 'Mr. Styles'. It's always 'Harry', or 'Hair-Bear'. This woman bears no resemblence to the happy, caring lady, who loved me like her own son only a few days ago.

Maura steps back, and closes the door with a slam of finalty.

I shakily walk down the steps and walk numbly to the car.

Once in the car, I just sit there. I can't process it. Niall doesn't want to be my friend. But we were brothers...he wouldn't throw all that out the window..would he?

Then I remember. I'd seemed pretty eager to end our friendship an hour before. Why couldn't Niall finalize it? He has every right.

Claire sits there silently, just watching me as I sit there in shock.

She doesn't offer me her sympathies or any comfort, which I am glad for, and also, a little bit dissapointed.

After about 10 minutes of silence, Claire speaks up.

"We should probably get off their property. I have to go home anyways," she says softly.

I nod deftly, and start the car.

"Where is it you live?" I ask tonelessly.

Claire directs me, until we are even further out of town than Niall's house. We are out in the country's rolling hills, and green pastures. We pass farm after farm and the country road is mostly desserted.

"This turn here," Claire says, indicating a dirt road lines neatly with oak trees, all the same size and distance apart, creating a sort of tunnell.

The dirt road is long and winding, and I finally ask her why we are on a dirt road.

"Oh. This is my driveway," she says, smiling weakly.

I raise my eyebrows.

Eventually we reach the end of the long and winding road. There's a farmhouse which is a nice two story wooden house, with a wrap around porch, with an old rocking chair out front, and a red front door. It looks neat and well kept. There's an air of happiness about the place. Even with all the plants and leaves gone since it's January, I can tell that it would be beautiful in the summer.

"Thanks," Claire says looking at me with a small smile.

My mouth tips slightly, into a smile.

"You're welcome," I say watchig her clamber out of the car and dissapear into the house.

The drive home is quiet. I feel lonely and sad. I get home and the sun has dissapeared. My mum is at work. Niall hates me. Claire...I don't even know what's happening with her.

I'm utterly alone.

This is why I should invest in more real and genuine friends. Not fake friends, like Louis and that lot. All they care about is getting laid and getting wasted. And they also care a great deal about their appearance.

I trudge upstairs and sit on my bed, in the dark. I can't stand myself. I can't stand my life. I'm beginning to understand how Niall felt.

I shudder, remembering his xylophone ribcage, and his mangled wrists.

I vow that I will never do something as horrific as what Niall felt compelled to do.

Niall. My chest hurts as I think about him, all alone in his room at his house, thinking nobody cares about him, thinking that I don't care about him. He's probably crying himself to sleep. I remember the cheerful boy from my childhood, bright eyes, blond hair all of the place, a baseball cap on a jaunty angle upon his head. He used to be so full of laughter, and he had a longing to travel the world. He used to say girls were gross. He used to do whatever he wanted and not care. He had an appetite thag could never be satisfied. He was always eating. Good thing that boy had a fast metabolism, or else he'd be the size of a house. We used to play games all the time, making up our future. Niall said he'd be a singer, traveling the world. He'd have a wife just to have children. But he said he'd love her all the same. Her name would be Caroline.

I desperately wish we could be young and naïve again. Not a care in the world. Just wondering what the next meal would be.

I bury my head in my hands, and for the second time today, I cry my heart out. I cry and cry until in the middle of all my crying, I fall asleep.