I Would {A Harry Styles and Niall Horan Fan-Fic} (Completed!)

Chapter 14

Note! This chapter contains some heavy material. Reader discretion is advised by the author!

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“You know how I always say in interviews that I wanted to be an actress ever since I was little?” I asked Harry, not looking at him. I saw him nod in the corner of my eye.

“I lied. Sure, like any girl, I went through that phase of wanting to be an award winning actress, but it came and went. I really wanted to go to college and write,” I said, still not looking at Harry. The rain pounded against the window, and the sky was dark.

I could almost see Harry furrowing his brow and staring off in the same direction as me, as if he thought that if he looked at what I was looking at, maybe it would seem clearer.

“When I was little, my teachers would tell my parents how bright I was. They put me in advanced classes, and at first, I really liked it. Then, some kids in middle school started calling me a nerd after I got braces and glasses, and I thought it was because I was in the smart classes.”

I sighed then and turned my head to the other window.

“That was when things started going downhill,” I said sadly. “I started doing poorly in school, and my parents were always pushing me. They told me I was stupid for not getting an A on every test, and I believed them. I started believing I was stupid, and I would just nod and agree with my parents when they yelled at me.”

Harry cut in then.

“Your parents called you stupid?” he asked, stunned.

I nodded sadly.

“Yes, they were good parents, better than some, but they demanded a lot out of me, and I didn’t add up to their expectations. I still tried, but I had other problems.

“I was never popular. I was nerdy, fat, and had braces and glasses. I had no friends, and the people I called friends made fun of me. If I ate something, they called me fat. If I said something, they called me stupid. If I told them a secret, they’d spread it around. I was miserable.”

I felt tears bud up as I continued, “In seventh grade, I had my first suicide attempt. I tried to cut my wrists, but I cut too high, and I didn’t bleed out. To this day, I cannot even look at my wrists without feeling queasy.

“After that, it was on and off. I started falling into darkness. I wouldn’t go hang with friends, I was constantly inside reading depressing books and writing dark stories about how things would be better when I died, and I didn’t even bother to do my homework. My grades fell, and my friends started ignoring me completely. One day, I went to lunch to find that they had invited someone new – some new girl from Australia – to sit in my seat, and they told me I’d been replaced. I spent the rest of lunch in the bathroom crying.

“In eighth grade, I finally broke down in the middle of class and started bawling. The teacher had started yelling at me, telling me that I was stupid for not getting a ‘simple math problem’ and everyone was laughing at me. I started crying and running out of the room.

“I was going to go to the stairwell and jump from the top when the school guidance counselor found me at the top, trying to climb over the railing. She stopped me and made me come to her office and in there I told her that I was obsessed with death.

“By that time, I had probably had around twenty attempts. I was so depressed that I didn’t care whether or not I lived. I just wanted to die.”

I heard Harry take a deep intake. He was sucking all this new air in.

“She called my parents, and within six hours, I was on my way to a mental hospital.

“Things didn’t get better there. I was only thirteen, and most of the kids were in their late teens and weren’t even in there for suicide. Most were in for drug abuse, and they weren’t very nice. Most made fun of me, and the people there did nothing about it. I spent most of my time in my room, crying. When they finally let me out, I didn’t feel any better.

“When I got back to school, the rumor went around that I was crazy. People avoided me, and I had no friends. I felt worse than before, and at the end of the school year, I just wanted to die.

“I started cutting at that time, but not on the inside of my wrist. I cut on the outside of my arm, where everyone could see. I always felt so exposed, but it was the only way I knew how to deal with the pain. When I arrived in high school, though, there were people who accepted me for being who I was, and started running with that crowd.

“They weren’t a good crowd. Most came from broken homes, most did drugs and drank, and most engaged in self-harm. At first, I was glad that I was finally accepted, but after a while, they started attacking me. They said I was a nerd for studying and doing my homework, a coward for not drinking and doing drugs, and a wussy because I could only cut on the outside of my arm. I soon left that group, and continued to be a loner.”

I finally looked at Harry.

“I spent the rest of high school alone. There were a few people who would talk to me, but most ignored me or made fun of me. It was then I decided I was going to become famous, to show them that I was capable, and that they had shunned a great person.”

I looked away.

“That’s why I wanted to be an actress.”

I waited for Harry to scorn me, to say that I was a phony, to say that I was all just a lie, but instead I heard silence. I looked at him to see he was near tears.

“Harry?” I asked, leaning in and reaching at his face. “What’s wrong?”

Harry took my hand in his and kissed it.

“You’ve been through so much,” he said. “I can’t believe it. You deserve everything that’s been given to you, because you’ve been through hell to achieve it.”

I gave a bitter laugh.

“There are many people who disagree with you. Mainly, my old classmates,” I said.

Harry smiled sadly, then reached down and examined my arm. I hadn’t cut in years, ever since junior year, but if you looked closely you could still see the white marks where I had attacked my arm with scissors.

He bent stroked my arm softly, the expression on his face tender and sweet. He then reached down and kissed the scars, then looked up at me.

“You don’t mind?” he asked.

I nodded, and he bent down and kissed me on the cheek.

“Lisa,” he said, his voice near whisper, soft and velvety. “You’re the strongest person I know. I love you, no matter what.”

I felt tears come to my eyes, and I hugged him, wrapping my arms tight around his neck. I began to cry, big heaving sobs that came from deep inside me. Harry hugged me back, calming me as I continued to cry. Despite the tears, thought, I felt safe in his arms.