Cyberbullied

Chapter 4

Niall's P.O.V







I flipped myself onto my right side, closing my eyes and hoping that finally I'd be able to get some sleep. I sighed and opened my eyes, sitting up, searching around my room. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and grabbed my phone. I opened up the tweet box and started to tweet.







@NiallOfficial: Cant sleep. Wats everybody doin?







I sent the tweet, hoping to get actual answers. Boy was I wrong. I scrolled through the comments, my mouth slightly opening in shock.







@1DRockss: @NiallOfficial fuck you. No one cares.







@AllMyLittleThings: @NiallOfficial I hope you cut daily. You pretty much deserve it for totally ruining the band!!







All the tweets were negative. I only found one positive tweet. Which wasn't good enough for me. I dropped my phone on the bed and ran a hand through my hair. Don't cry, Niall. Stop being so fucking sensitive.







I gripped onto my hair and closed my eyes as a tear flowed down my cheek. I need a way to free my mind from all of this hate mail. An idea clicked in my head and I immediately jumped out of bed. I switched my sweatpants with black skinny jeans. I put on a brown long sleeved t-shirt and my white supras.







I combed my hair and fixed it into a blonde quiff before walking out of my room. I quietly walked down the stairs, making sure I made no noise so that I wouldn't wake the lads. I grabbed my car keys and walked out the door. Getting in my car and driving off, I smiled to myself, thinking this was the perfect way to drown all of my thoughts.







After a 10 minute drive, I parked my car in the car park. I stepped out of my car and walked towards the entrance. Entering the club, I watched as everyone on the dance floor danced to the main music coming from the DJ. I walked over to the bar and ordered a beer from the bartender. I drank the whole bottle within minutes.







I ordered another beer. I lost count of how many beers I drank. I wasn't sober, I was far from it. I stumbled through the crowd, my blurry eyes somehow catching a blonde haired slut. I tried to walk over to her in the coolest way possible.







She spotted me and smirked, grabbing my shirt and pulling me closer to her body. I placed my hands on her waist and attempted to smirk. She started to nip at my neck, making me groan, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. She trailed her kisses up to my neck, coming closer to my lips. Her lips caught mine as she quickly slipped her tongue in my mouth.







I had no idea what I was doing, considering I was drunk. She stopped and grabbed my hand, dragging me out of the club and into an alley. She slammed me against the brick wall, sucking on my neck as her hands trailed up the inside of my shirt.

I moaned, trying to speak, but my words were all jumbled.







"Shhh, baby." She purred in my ear, lifting my shirt over my head. She suddenly stopped as she shrieked. "Oh my god! You're a fucking cutter!"







It was as if my drunken state vanished as I stared at her in shock.







"I-I'm sorry," I apologized for no reason.







"You should be! I was about to have sex with a little depressed boy!" She babbled, walking away in her high heels. I watched her slowly fade down the alley. I threw my head back, feeling it come in contact with the brick. I slid down, eventually falling onto the dirty ground. I pulled my legs up to my chest and laid my forehead on my knees. I clenched my fists and my jaw.







I cried and cried. But, the more I cried, the more I got mad. I through my shirt back on and stood up. I want help. I need help.







I walked out of the alley and over to my car. I stepped inside and as soon as I slammed the door, my raging headache appeared. I whimpered through the pain and turned the car on. Trying my best to get home with no problem, I succeeded. I got out of the car and jogged inside the house.







My final decision has been made. If I do it, there will be no turning back. I slowly walked up the steps and barged through the door to Harry's room. I walked over to his bed and furiously shook him awake.







"Harry, wake up!" I slightly slurred, the alcohol still affecting me. He groaned and opened his eyes, tiredly swatting my hands away.







"What the hell, Niall?" He mumbled, sitting up.







"I have to tell you something," I whispered. "Something in which you can not tell the lads."







"And this has to be told at 1 in the morning?" He asked with a face telling me I was ridiculous.







"Yeah," I muttered.







"Then tell me." He demanded in an annoyed tone. I sighed and closed my eyes, my fists clenched at my sides.







"I'm depressed and I cut."