Diana [One Direction Fan Fiction]

Chapter Three: Ruined

I blushed when Niall told me randomly, mid-movie, that I was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen and he loves me more than anyone in the world. For now, at least. Good thing he couldn't see me blushing. Something I've learned today is that Niall really is a sweet guy. And that I really need to watch more Kevin Hart movies. This is hilarious!

The movie was almost over when Niall leaned in to kiss me. I'd never been kissed before. Ever. Except, by my family. This is the affect of being in hiding for a year on your life. I didn't know what to do, so I just followed his lead. Our mouths were about to touch, when Zayn slapped Niall in the face."Look dude,"he said loudly,"You don't snog girls you barely know, ok? You only make that mistake once..." "He's right,"Niall looked at me guiltily,"I'm sorry. It's just...I love you." "It's ok, Niall. Forgive and forget,"I smiled at him. I just used 'forgive' and 'forget' in the same sentence?! This boy must really be special.

After the movie ended, we walked to the car. Niall opened the door for me, again, like a gentleman, and I knew that he was perfect. Aboslutely perfect.

He reached out to hold my hands, and I gave him my hand, forearm facing up, like an idiot. The smile faded from his face when he saw my wrists,"What's this?" He sounded concerned. I spoke gently and quietly,"They're from years ago, I swear. I don't cut anymore. I don't believe in it." He didn't sound convinced,"No. I don't care when you cut or if you still do, but this is going to be bad if the public sees it. Basically, we're done." All I heard is 'I don't care about you.' I knew this would happen."Look, Diana,"he was really pushing it,"Your life seems fine. What do you even have to self harm about?"

I looked at him with hatred in my eyes as I screamed,"My parents are dead, I'm broke money-wise and mentally, everyone at school hates me, and I'm different! So, why not?!" He was then concerned,"I'm sorry. I didn't know." "Niall,"I adressed him as kindly as I could manage while still screaming,"No one knows! Still, some people choose to be nice, even though I have scars." The car pulled up to my house.

I pushed open the door and slammed it shut, only to see the window roll down."Don't, Niall, just don't,"I said, really ticked,"And, by the way, I hate you!" And with that, the blonde boy was gone. 

Insensitive, I thought to myself. I knew it would never work. I was living in a fantasy. I hate him. I hate myself. I hate my life. I hate my school. I hate my world. But, most of all, I hate life.

I rummaged through the drawers for something sharp. All I could find was a butter knife. This would do just fine. I held it above my arm, almost going to do it. I was about to drive the sharp part of the knife into my arm. I was going to break my promise to God. And my promise to me

Just as I was about to do it, the knife clattered to the ground. I caught myself. No. Just no. I will not just sit here and let people drive me to the point where I go back to self-harming my problems away. Never again will I let the monster inside of me hurt the person on the outside. Never.

Maybe I'm over-reacting. People have a habit of panicking when stuff like this happens. He didn't know what to do. I suppose I might  react the same way. I picked up the house phone and dialled Niall's number.Voicemail."Hello," I spoke warily, assuming he was pissed at me,"I'm sorry. I just kind of freaked out in the car. I really do like you and I want to see you again, it's just, if it's bad for your music career, it's ok. We can still be friends. Love you,"my voice trailed off at the end. 

It's not his fault. It's a lot to handle. And I just ruined a good relationship. Why do I have to be such a freak? A spaz? A retard? A loser? Why do I even have to be? I'm such  a screw up. No one likes me anymore except April. 

I could be a  lesbian. That could work out. I wouldn't be teased anymore than I am already....Nah. April's straight, anyways. Oh, well. The world spins. But, will my life go on?

No one would care if I did it. No one would care if I cut 'til there was no flesh. No one would care if I bled out. No one would even care if I committed suicide. I would just be one life that disapppeared. It wouldn't actually impact peoples' lives. 

No one would care if I died. Even if I got murdered, no one would remember me. No one actually cares about me. And no one will ever understand what I've gone through, no matter how hard they try. And that's why  I simply like to say,"Screw you, life. Now go and die." It's actually almost a catch-phrase by now, and I don't mind. Just like no one would give a you-know-what if I died. . No one in this universe. No one. Even if people missed me, life would go on for them and they would end up living happily ever after and all that crap.

I really hope someone would come to my grave. Even if it was my legal guardian, I wouldn't mind. I just want to feel like someone could care and grieve about me. No one I know right now would, except maybe April. No. April would stay home. She doesn't believe in funerals, says they overwhelm her or something. I suppose I get her point. I wasn't able to stay for all of Mom and Dad's funeral. I just couldn't take all those eyes of people on a sobbing twelve year old. I just couldn't.

My parents' funeral literally had an outcome of three people. The priest, April, and my invisible friend, Charlie. I left when Charlie started teasing me about my parents' not having anything and how I'd end up six feet under by the time I was 40, like them.

I literally rode my bike ten miles home that day, tears in my eyes the whole time.