Beneath Your Broken

Chapter two

I sat on my bed, in the dark. I just got home from the police department about thirty minutes ago. I've been there for the past two hours.

My parents were still making me go to school tomorrow. I wonder whether I'll get the silent treatment from everyone, or if I'll get pity. I'd way rather have the silent treatment. I hate when people pity me. I feel bad enough on my own. My mind then drifted to the beautiful, blonde, Irish boy. Tears came to my eyes. The one time I find someone who doesn't know me, and can love me for whoever he thinks I am, it of course gets ruined my parents. My parents that are embarrassed to claim me as their daughter. I would be too, I guess.

{ Niall's POV }

I sat on my bed with my lamp for light. A notebook with many scribbles inside it sat in front of me, my guitar in my hand. I was writing a new song. About Baylee Taylor. I couldn't get over her. I was still deciding on the name.. I was thinking moment in time, maybe, or just moments. I don't really know.

My mind trailed off to my family. Well, they aren't really my family anymore. I missed my mom, my dad, my sister, but most of all I miss my brother... I thought about how we used to be so close, then so far away, and now, completely apart. I heard a knock on my door, interrupting my thoughts. "Niall?" It was Mrs. Calderson. I wasn't in the mood to discuss "myself" tonight.

{ flash back }

Hi, Niall. I'm Mrs. Calderson, I'm going to be talking to you every night, and every Wednesday morning. We are going to become very close during the years you are here. We are going to be discussing how you are dealing with yourself, and the decisions you are making. We are also going to be talking about why you did what you did..

{ Baylee's POV }

I lie awake, I looked over at my alarm clock. 4:15 A.M. . Great. I have to get up at 6. I used to get up at 5, back when I cared about my appearance. I finally dozed off.

1 precious hour of sleep later, I got up, washed my face, put my hairbin a messy bun, brushed my teeth, put on a bit of makeup, and put on an oversized sweatshirt, skinny jeans, and my sperrys. I ran down stairs and grabbed my lunchbox, made a sandwich, and put a mini bag of chips, and a mini Arizona tea in it. I then grabbed my backpack off the cluttered kitchen table, when I noticed a paper for "Clearfield Young Adult Center" underneath a few of my moms work schedules. I walked out to the car. I looked straight into my moms eyes. "Really mom? Really? A suicidal, delinquent kid hospital? Really?" She didn't reply. Five minutes of silence. We finally pulled up to my school. I grabbed my stuff, and slammed the door as hard as I could. I walked up to the door. The worst day of my life starts in three, two, one..