Lost and Insecure

one

Chapter 1 - Delilah's POV

"And I don't want the world to see me,

Cause I don't think that they'd understand."

I sang along with the Goo Goo Dolls in the shower. This line literally describes my life. I wear a mask, 24/7.

"When everything's meant to be broken,"

I am broken.

"I just want you to know who I am."

You do, and you hate me.

Only one person knows anything about me. The real me. Sure, I have really close friends whom I call some of my 'best friends' but I can't tell them what's going through my head at 4 in the morning. I can't tell them how I really feel inside, when they're all giggly and hyped up about a cute guy, and I just want to fucking scream. Only one person understands me.

I'm a bipolar, depressed insomniac and I hate my life.

You see, Charles, my father, used to abuse me. Physically, verbally, sexually. He convinced me that I'm a useless piece of shit that no one will ever truly love or care for. I will not amount to anything. He was arrested a year ago, but thanks to him I know the truth. I've realized how worthless I am.

That's where it all begins.

I'm actually quite popular at my high school, just because of the way I dress, I'm apparently pretty to the blind people at my school, and I have a "good personality". Ha.

But, there's always the all-that bitches who look down on everyone. They point out every flaw they have time to, as if I don't do that enough. They tell me how no one loves me, as if I don't already know that. They will trample over you in a second if you show any sign of weakness.

As I think about the shit called life, I let the water wash over me and cleanse me. I wish it would wash away the scars, the memories, the pain, and replace it as a better human being.

One that's not me.

I turn the water off and step out of the steamy shower, grabbing my towel and drying off. I walk to my bedroom and rummage through my drawers to find some pajamas. I grab some and dress quickly, hating the feel of the cold air on my damp skin from the shower.

Wrapping my towel around my hair turban-style, I pick up my phone that's still playing music from the bathroom counter and walk downstairs, singing "Moments" along with One Direction. Harry's and Louis' voices are literal perfection in this song, oh my god.

Seriously.

I dance over to the pantry and grab Lucky Charms off the shelf. Pouring myself a bowl, I open twitter and scroll through my feed, finding nothing of interest. I switch to WANELO and kill time on there, looking at cute clothes. I absolutely hate it when there's all those clear strapless bras all over Trending, or those butterfly lace thongs. It's so stupid.

I'm getting really bored now. I go on tumblr and see tons of notifications of new followers. I guess you could say I'm tumblr-famous, as well as a pretty famous YouTuber. Some people are always saying how 'I have it all' and 'I'm so lucky'. It's funny, they don't actually know anything about me and haven't bothered to try to get to know me.

I let out a huge sigh. I'm always alone. My mum is always at work; my dad's in jail; Jake, my brother, is at boarding school somewhere on the other side of England; and my best friend is on vacation with his rich dad and step-mum. Stupid Drew.

I walk to the bathroom and go on Ask.fm, looking at how much hate I've gotten since yesterday, when I last checked it. It's quite a lot. There's always those few people that say, 'you're beautiful, stay strong, don't listen to the haters, they're just jealous, etc.' but, in the words of Harry Styles, "They're saying you're amazing 'cause they're a fan. But if someone says 'I don't like you,' I want to know why."

He's so wise. I don't see how he could get hate, and the rest of the 1D boys. It's horrible. They're so lovable and kind and amazing, and they are judged 24/7. Like Louis was playing football for charity, and he was injured and got booed off the field. There is something seriously wrong with people.

I always get tons of hate because I'm a YouTuber and tumblr-famous, and because I'm just a worthless person, ugly, all that shit.

'You're ugly.

I know .'

'I hate you.

Cool , I hate me too .'

'You're an attention seeking whore. You will never amount to anything, no one loves you, you're ugly as fuck, and everyone hates you. I hope you die.

Awh thanks , love you too . You don't have to fucking tell me all this shit , plenty of people have the courtesy to let me know this so you can shut the fuck up . Okay ? Okay .'

I answer all of the questions, smiling a little at the nice ones. It's refreshing to know that there are still good people in the world.

But it's not enough.

I take my razor from the bathtub and take a deep breath, touching it to the pale skin on my wrist.

'This one is for being an ugly piece of shit.

This one is for being a waste of space.

This one is for being me.'

I chant that in my head as the blades slice through my skin, tearing open fresh new wounds. My heart rate is slowing down as I calm, and watching the blood run down my arm soothes me.

I sigh.

Drew keeps wanting me to get better.

Sometimes I want to get better, too.

But deep down inside I know I don't deserve to.

---------------------------------------------

Soo yeah . It'll get better .

Anyone know the song ? 'And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand' comment if you know !

Advice or anything , inbox me or comment .

Comment and vote , I'm probably not going to get any reads anyways though so whatevs .

~ nicole x