Picking up the pieces (Ziall)

Chapter 01

Chapter 01

“Niall you’re ugly and don’t deserve to be in One Direction!”

“Niall can’t sing.”

“Niall is fat, and ugly, but mostly fat.”

The sentences repeated in my head. I put my head in my hands and closed my eyes tightly, not wanting the tears to escape my eyes. I bit my lip hard, almost causing it to bleed. I couldn’t take it anymore. Everyone hates me.

Not five seconds later tears rolled down my cheeks. Sobbing quietly I snuggled up in the blanket.

I was lying in my bunk in the One Direction tour bus, which was under Zayn’s bunk. Zayn is my best friend. He always comforts me when I’m down and he’s a great guy.

I let out a shaky breath as I heard the boys stumble in the living room area of our tour bus. I looked at my phone and saw it was 12.30 am.

I kept quiet as best as I could and pretended to sleep when the boys put on their pajamas.

I heard Zayn whisper: “Lou, do you know what’s going on with Niall? He’s been so quiet and tired the past weeks. I’m worried about him.” “No, I don’t know, but I didn’t notice anything. You’re probably just being over protective again.”

I sighed; Louis and Harry didn’t like me. I was the dork of the band, in their eyes, and way too childish. Just because I’m not tall and I had braces till a few months ago I don’t look like a child, do I? Or maybe I do.

I overheard a conversation between Harry and Louis two months ago. It was about me. I still hear Harry’s voice saying: “Why did we need him in the band? He looks like shit dude, I mean; have you seen that baby face? He hasn’t the looks to be famous.”

It hurt so much to hear him say that.

But Louis answer was worse: “Yeah, you’re right. We should’ve kicked him out before we joined X-Factor. He’s messing up everything. And he cries way too much. He’s such a baby.”

It’s true though; I cry too much. But I can’t help it.

They don’t know what I’ve been through. They don’t know anything about my childhood or family, about my past. They don’t even know the real me, which is maybe better this way. They think my family is a happy family, but unfortunately the truth is a little more difficult.

When I was five years old, my parents went to travel the world and I got to live with my uncle and aunt. My parents liked them, and I liked them too; they were always nice to me. Until I was seven everything was okay.

But when I turned seven, my aunt passed away and my uncle became alcoholic. Of course we didn’t celebrate my birthday that year, but I didn’t understand that; I was only seven.

When I asked my uncle why we didn’t celebrate my birthday a few weeks later he went really angry and hit me in the face. I immediately stopped talking and started crying. He hit me again and shouted I had to be quiet. I just ran upstairs to my bedroom and cried myself to sleep.

That was the first time I cried myself to sleep.

My uncle started drinking more and more, and the beatings became worse. I started with a black eye and a bruised jaw now and then, but eventually it turned out into split lips, bleeding noses and one time he even broke my ribs. I never told anyone about it back then and I still haven’t.

The nine year old I was smarter, and more careful. Sometimes I’d even take care of my uncle when he was drunk, passed out on the couch next to a puddle of his own vomit.

I’d clean it and get him a blanket to sleep under.

One day my uncle got really drunk and I accidently dropped a glass while doing the dishes. He went really angry and I begged him not to hit me. I was terrified. He was going to hit me; I was sure about that, until he suddenly kissed me. I didn’t know what was happening, I pushed him away.

He just kissed me again and forced me to lay down on the couch in the living room. I cried so much and yelled so hard. He raped me that night, at the age of nine; I’ve been raped by my uncle.

And not a single soul knows about it, except for me and my uncle.

When I turned twelve, my parents came back from their travel. They lived in all kind of places and took their time to travel the world; seven whole years. In those seven years my uncle completely destroyed my life, my self-esteem, everything. I didn’t have any friends; I didn’t have a girlfriend, nothing.

When I was thirteen I met Harry, Louis, Liam and Zayn. We formed a band.

I fell in love with Zayn when we both were seventeen, that’s two years ago. We were practicing for the tour we were going to do and I was depressed. I’ve always thought Zayn was good looking and well handsome, but I fell in love with him when he showed me he cared about me. Every time I broke down, every time I cried, just every time, he comforted me and told me everything would be okay.

My uncle died last year. I’d never been so relieved; he couldn’t hurt me anymore.

I let out another breath as I noticed the guys had put on their pajamas and went to sleep.

I opened the twitter app on my phone and searched for Niall Horan. The first five tweets were about how amazing I was, but then there were about twenty tweets about how much people hated me, about that I couldn’t sing, about that i was ugly, fat, a faggot, a loner, a dork, a nerd, worthless. Everything.

Tears welled up n my eyes again as I turned off my phone. For one day I didn’t want to pretend like the happy Niall Horan who was happy with his life, who was in the world famous band One Direction, but just be the real Niall Horan; the boy who cries because of reasons, the boy who has feelings because of reasons.

Sometimes when Harry or Louis playfully hits me unexpectedly I start crying. Why? Because of my past.

I’m always scared to death when people are intimidating or angry. When people start hitting, kicking or poking me I tense up.

Sometimes I just wished that I was dead. I wasn’t suicidal per se; I just didn’t want to be living. I never wanted to be born.

So many people hated me, and from what I read on Twitter and such people didn’t care about me and wanted me to die. I didn’t care, I could die right that second and people wouldn’t care.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep. 

Author's note: I don't know yet where this is going, but we'll see.  Please vote or comment below if you want me to continue this story!