Bullies Can Love (Niall Horan AU)

Chapter 2

Here goes another day of school.

I put on a tight white long sleeve v-neck to cover my bruised arms. Next I put on skinny jeans and combat boots. Then I grab my zip up sweater and put it on. Then I put my black leather jacket over it.

I carefully put on makeup to cover the gash on my face and the bruise around my eye. They were still very tender. I leave my hair down in its natural waves and I grab my bag and head to school. Hopefully no one bothers me today. I don't need another reason to hate life right now.

Why did I get beat on this time you ask? Niall hit me for asking Bri for a pencil. Stupid bitch. Why does he have to control everything I do? I never did anything to hurt him. The worst part is that my friends know he does this and can't do anything about it or else it gets worse for me.

I sigh heavily as I step into the gloomy atmosphere that surrounds this stupid school. I'm at my locker when I hear my name being yelled across the hall. I look around and of course it's Niall.

"Kendra!" I hear him yell again.

"What's up slut. Do anything I can punish you for? Huh?" He asks.

I shake my head no.

"Good bitch. Now get to class before I beat the living shit out of you." He warns me.

I nod and close my locker. I turn and he stops me by grabbing my arm.
I turn and he slaps me.

"That's for not saying goodbye." He states coldly.

I start to cry and look him in the eyes and he refrains from slapping me again. His hand was already in the air so I know for a fact he was thinking of hitting me again. But for some reason he stopped. I quickly got away from his grip and ran to class.

I didn't see him the whole day after that.I was worried he'd come out of nowhere and hit me again. He likes doing that a lot.

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

My last class ended. I dread the walk to my locker every single day. I just know he's going to be there waiting to put his hands on me. I close my eyes as I turn the corner only to not find him there. Relief washes over me as I quickly get my things and bolt for the door.

I basically run home. I'm finally home and I sigh heavily. No major damage today. Other than the slap he gave me.

Another day in my horrid life. What I don't get is how does he get away with this? It's like everyone magically disappears when he hits me.

No one says anything! It makes no sense.

I truly hate my life!

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I go to my bathroom and take all my makeup off. The gash being clearly visible on my face now. I get a bit of Neosporin and put some on it. I wash my hands and go to the kitchen to make myself some food.

I only make Ramen noodles because that's the only thing I have the energy to eat. I take my cup of noodles and sit on the seat on my window ledge.

This is where I come to sulk and to write in my journal. Mostly consisting of journal entries like these:

Dear Journal,

Same old shit but a different day. Niall got me again. But why? I don't get why he hates me. I never even did anything to him. The first day I met him I thought he was nice. He was cute to me. When he came up to me I thought he was going to ask me on a date. He turns out to be the fucking devil. I hate his guts. He slapped me today and kicked my stomach, shins, and back. A least he doesn't punch my face. That would be a nightmare. Speaking of nightmares...i have them everyday. All about Niall. He torments me and I can't live with this. Sometime I think he's right. I don't belong here. In this house. In this school. In this country. In this world. I'm sure if I died no one would care. I'm sure as he'll my parents don't care. They practically left me to fend on my own. I'm surprised they still pay for this house. Well...enough ranting for today. Gotta mentally prepare myself for another beating tomorrow.

Today I write about his weird behavior. He's never acted like this and it freaks me out. I prefer his rude behavior. It's more predictable. As I'm writing I hear laughing outside. I look up from writing and see my 3 best friends laughing and having a good time. Without me.

I start to cry. I throw my journal across the room and I grab my pencil and do the unthinkable. I dig the tip of my mechanical pencil into my skin and glide it across the same spot over and over again until I break skin. Blood oozes down my arm and I no longer feel the emotional pain. I feel physical pain and it hurts way less than emotional pain.

I know it's wrong but it feels good.

The cut starts to sting so I put my arm against my stomach to stop it from bleeding out. Tears keep falling from me eyes but my face holds no emotion. Empty you could say.

That's how I feel.

Empty.

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PLEASE DON'T HESITATE TO POINT OUT ANY GRAMMATICAL ERRORS OR MISPELLED WORDS! IM NOT THE BEST WRITER SO CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISICSM HELPS!!!!