Cyberbullied

Chapter 7

Niall's P.O.V

"Niall," A soft voice whispered as someone gently shook my shoulder. My eyes snapped open, looking over my shoulder, realizing it was Harry. I let out a long sigh while I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. It had been a couple of days since I left the hospital and no matter what I was doing, I would suddenly feel a wave of exhaustion. "You ok? You've been sleeping the whole day," He sincerely asked me.

"Yeah. What time is it?" I answered, searching for my clock.

"It's almost midnight. I just wanted to check on you before I went to bed," He told me, standing straight. My eyes slightly widened as I stared at him in disbelief. "It's one of the effects to the medicine your doctor prescribed you."

"Oh . . ." I trailed, flipping my body so that I was facing him. I laid my head back on my pillow and stared at the glass of water sitting on the little table beside my bed. I sat up for a moment so that I could pick up the glass and take a sip. I hoped it could somewhat help my soar throat.

"You can go back to bed. See ya tomorrow, mate," He ruffled my-possibly greasy-hair before walking out of my room. I closed my eyes and soon, my mind was once again put to rest.

•••

"They want us to do a story for PopTeen Magazine about Niall's 'Horrific Trip to the Hospital'. It gets me pissed that tabloids only want the main reason. You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna sue . . . Oh, hey Niall!"

I walked past them, opening the fridge just as my stomach grumbled loudly. I could hear them mumbling sentences as I poured my cereal. I already knew what Louis was saying when I had walked in.

"Just let them tell the whole world what actually happened," I whispered, loud enough for them to hear me.

"Are you crazy, Niall?! Once they get the information they need, they will turn it into something even more disgusting than it already is! This is your personal life, we can't give it to them just like that and expect everything to turn out fine," Zayn commented. I shrugged and chewed on my breakfast.

"Zayn has a point, Niall. You need to listen to us," Harry spoke, calmly.

"Since when do you choose my decisions? I mean, you did say it's my life," I snapped at them. They sat in silence, staring down at their breakfast. I turned away from them and glared at the bowl in my hand. No longer hungry, I dropped the bowl in the sink and walked back upstairs. I laid in my bed and stared off into space.

It's my fucking life. I don't need anyone telling me what to do. I thought back to before I appeared on the X Factor. I wanted this career more than life itself. Now . . . I wish my stupid teenage mind would have held back and went on with the rest of my life. I wouldn't have to worry about anyones opinion other than my own.

I sat up and pulled out my guitar case, unlocking it. I picked up my dusty guitar, wiping it clean with my bare hand. I rubbed my hand on my jeans, hoping to free my hand from getting covered in the dirty grey dust. I walked over to my window and opened it. In one easy and swift move, I had climbed onto the roof.

I sat down at the top of the roof, admiring how far I could see the suburban area I live in. With grey clouds and tiny rain droplets, I felt it was a good time to finally play. With no other song in my mind, I began to strum the familiar tune of my current favorite song. I hummed and closed my eyes, enjoying the lovely tune of Give Me Love. I began singing quietly, not caring if anyone was listening or watching me.

"Maybe tonight I'll call you, after my blood turns into alcohol . . ." I let out a soft sigh before I nearly jumped and fell off the roof-although I wouldn't mind-when I heard someone shout.