Love... A Niall Horan Love Story

Chapter 8: Gotcha

Niall's P.O.V. 

I waited for Harry to show up.I had texted him twenty minutes ago, and now I was waiting for him to come. Harry finally barged in the room. I stood up.

"Finally! What was taking so long?!" I half-asked half-yelled.

"Jeez, Niall, there was traffic," the curly-haired menace said. "What's got you all worked up?"

"This," I snarled, pushing the diary towards him.

Harry picked it up. "What's wrong with it?"

"Not in four entries does she mention her name! It's kind of pissing me off!" I growled, running a hand through my blond hair.

Harry frowned. "You read two more entries without me?"

I felt guilty. "I couldn't take it anymore! I needed to see if she wrote her name! And she didn't," I added.

Harry sank down on my bed and starting reading. I sat down next to him and just fiddled with my fingers. All of a sudden Harry smiled.

"What?" I asked anxiously.

"Nothing, it's just that in her fourth entry she said she told her therapist to stuff it. She must be funny, whoever she it," Harry said, and then went back to reading.

He flipped the page and started reading the fifth entry. I snatched the book from him.

"Mine, remember?" I said.

"Technically, it's whoever's the diary belongs to," Harry pointed out.

His smart-aleck comment earned him a smack to the back of the head. Harry rubbed his head and glared at me.

"Let's just read," I said, and we started reading the fifth entry. I got excited because it was about her.

The only person you should try to be better than, is the person you were yesterday.

I just realized, diary, that you don't know me very well. No one does. The only person that really knew me was my brother. Now, no one knows me. Well, I have decided that you are now my new best friend. If you dont like it, too bad. I need one.

So, about myself, I am twenty years old. I am a girl, in case you didn't know. I am single, I mean seriously, who would date a murderer? My favorite color is purple and my birthday is August 8th. As you already know, my brother was James. My dad walked out when I was like two months old, so no dad for me. I like to be alone. My mom works all the time, so I don't know her very well. I really am alone all the time which is fine by me. I like to read, and talk to you.

I also play football, but not as much anymore, since I'm not good enough for college. I love to sing and my dream is to be a famous singer. I also can play guitar. I love food and I eat a lot of it. Well, not as much anymore. I've been depressed lately. I've never been anorexic, or bulimic. I love food too much to ever give it up. Um, I'm really not that interesting. Do you think I'm interesting? You can be honest.

My fashion sense is... normal? I just bury myself in huge sweatshirts and jeans. Oh, and I love converse. Heels piss me off. They just hurt my feet. Sorry, you don't listen to me to hear me rant about heels. I've gotten shallow, haven't I? I'm ranting about shoes, for God's sake. I'm sorry. I just feel... better, talking about myself. That sounds bad, but it really is just taking my mind off my brother. I'm such a stupid little wimp. I'm talking about myself like I'm actually cool. I'm not cool. I've never been cool. I never will be cool.  

Love... 

The 'loser'

We were silent for a while.

"Damn," Harry said. "I thought we had her." I got mad and chucked the little book across the room. "Niall!" Harry said, startled.

'What?" I snarled. "What is so hard about signing your name? Why can't you sign your name!?" I was shouting now.

Harry picked up the book cautiously and flipped to the next page. I was too busy fuming to notice.

"Why can't she just sign her name? It's not that hard. Goddamn, I thought I was going to find her. But she had to make it impossible to find whoever owns that diary-"

"Niall," Harry said, trying to fight the smile spreading across his face.

"I mean, really, your name is probably only like six letters is it really that freaking hard? God, sometimes I really hate people-"

"Niall," Harry said louder.

"I'm just so pissed off because I actually like this girl, and I don't know her, and I don't know her name so I can't get to know her-"

"NIALL!" Harry shouted.

"What?" I stopped min-rant and turned to face him.

"I think you'll like entry number 6," he said, holding the book out to me.

I snatched it and started ready. The words managed to calm me down because they were so sad.

People do not die from suicide, they die from sadness

I have a confession to make, diary. I've been thinking about suicide. I've been thinking that my life truly does suck, and no one would miss me when I'm gone. No one. My dad doesn't know me, I don't have any friends, and my mom would be as glad as hell to get her son's killer out of the way.

I just can't take it anymore. I miss James too much. I want to be with him. I used to think that people who commit suicide are just weak. Well, now I know that it's because they have no other option. I'm going to kill myself tonight. I'm going to jump off the bridge because I would rather do that then try and hang myself or put myself to sleep because I know that I will struggle and jumping into freezing cold water that's thirty feet below will definitely not let me struggle to survive.

I'm glad I got to talk to you. I'm really glad. You were a great friend. I'll miss writing to you. Except, for this sign-off, I'll use my real name. You deserve as much. You deserve to know who I really am right before I die. I'm taking you with me, see. I want to read you, to remember my previous thoughts. I've been having trouble remembering things lately. I think that's because my body knows it's going to die. Well, dear, dear, diary, this is good-bye. I just want you to know that I love you. I don't say that often, or at all, but I do love you. More than I can express. You helped me in ways I can't describe. I'm sorry we didn't get to talk more. I just want to leave. I'll see you soon, okay?

Love...

Brielle

I stopped and stared at Harry, "Brielle," I repeated my voice full of wonder.

Harry nodded, grinning. "We got her, Niall. We got her."

"Let's go find this chick," I said, grabbing the book and my coat and running out the door.

Yay! They know her name! Do you think that they're going to find her? I sure hope so! *wink wink* haha sometimes I enjoy knowing that I know what's going to happen and you don't. It pisses you off on stories, doesn't it? I know it does that to me all the freaking time. Anyway, update! On another note, I won't be able to update much anymore. I have school and I'm busy. Sorry. But on weekends, maybe more.