19.

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Niall's POV

It was a little past halfway through the day and I was torn between breaking down in the middle of class or silently leaving the school and going back to the safety of my home.

Today had been rough, so much rougher than it would have been because I happened to have Art. That subject used to be calm in comparison to the more demanding subjects but was now the root of all of my stress. 

I was sat in the very room I was nearly taken advantage of in, which made me feel so much more vulnerable than I usually felt at this school. I was incredibly uncomfortable in this situation, leading to shift in my seat, the feeling of fear slowly consuming me as I looked around the room.

My eyes kept flickering over to the closet, the very closet in which I had been hiding in right before I experienced one of the most horrifying days of my entire life. All I could think about was slowly accepting that my death was near, that I could have died at any moment.

I kind of saw it as a good thing that I was still silently sitting in my chair. I hadn't completely blacked out or had a massive panic attack sometime during the lesson, so I was pretty sure that it was a good thing.

I let my eyes wander over the students, taking in their bored and uninterested faces as the teacher talked on. Most of them were texting secretly under the desk, talking quietly with their friends or just staring blankly into space.

None of them seemed to be concerned about what had happened, they just went on with their daily lives as though that day had never happened. I couldn't say the same about myself.

That was what made me weaker that everyone else. I couldn't let go of what happened, instead letting the events haunt me. I wasn't the only one to have to go through something traumatic, yet I seemed to be the only one that seemed effected by it. 

This included Harry, who seemed to have gone back to his old self, although he strangely hadn't hurt me since. I would often see him send me looks if we passed in the halls, though they weren't the usual glares I received from him, they were softer, more sympathetic. Much like everyone else but his looks always seemed more genuine than most others. 

Whilst on the topic of Harry, I instinctively found myself turning towards him, catching sight of him in his usual seat, along with Luke and a bunch of girls, who seemed to be either shoving their chests into his face or sympathetically gazing at him.

Harry seemed to go back to his old routine, yet the rest of the school still treated him like he was slowly dying. Strangely though, Harry wasn't soaking up all the attention he was receiving. Instead, he seemed rather uninterested by them. In fact, I hadn't really seen him communicate with anyone aside from who I assumed to be his closest friends since I had been back. 

I turned back to Ariana, who was sitting next to me. I could tell she sensed my uneasiness but remained silent. I knew that she was rather hesitant to speak to me, judging by the pitiful glances she sent my way every so often.

I looked at the clock, sighing in relief when I realised the class was nearly over. It had been really stressful but I was glad that I had managed to get through all my classes so far without having an anxiety attack. My eyes continued to wander over to the closet, the very place I was hiding with Harry, which was now the main cause of my anxiety. 

~

The bell soon rung, making me slowly stand from my seat and follow the rest of the class out of the room. I shut my locker door, thankful that I was able to get through class without making a complete fool out of myself. 

My thoughts were cut short as soon as I had heard someone call me from behind. Turning, I was thankful to see that it was Liam.

"Hey," I murmured softly as he approached me.

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