So Wrong, It's Right (Louis)

Chapter 1

I looked down at my rolled up fist, repeatedly letting my fingers fan out and then curl up again. Just earlier today I had knocked the water boy in the face just because I had football practice. It wasn’t like he has ever stopped me or has done anything to help himself out. He just took every hit I’ve given him, which just makes all of this so much easier for me.

I guess this is quite disturbing to admit, but I never really see Niall Horan’s victimised face. I actually see my enemy’s face, which just makes me lose control of myself. That’s what happened just this afternoon.

It’s pretty easy to bully the kid just because he’s our water boy. Maybe that’s part of what I made it seem like so that I can avoid how I’m really feeling. It’s one of those little clichés that helps get people through their days until things just become better for those who are good and then those people who are bad, well, there’s never a happy ending for those people now is there?

I’m not necessarily even searching for that. I don’t deserve that, just like all those other bad people in the world.  

Now, I was left in the car park alone. Zayn and I were making the water boy’s life a living hell; the one he let us put him in. I could still feel the pulse from the other boy under my hand. I wondered if a snake could feel the pulse of its own victim and it constricted around it and squeezed the life right out of it. I don’t know if they could feel satisfaction in that moment but I had felt it.

I didn’t watch as Zayn drove Harry’s car away to go take Niall away so that he was safe from us. I wished that I had some sort of getaway car like Niall seemed to have. Yeah, I’m the one who put him in that situation but at least he had a way to leave.

Harry just so happens to be one of my close friends, not that we share personal stories too much with one another. When it comes to be compassionate and comforting, I’m not the one to ever go to. I don’t think that we’re friends anymore. I mean, we haven’t spoken much since he got injured in our last game and now all of this shit going on with the water boy. It’s a shame that it had to happen to him because I know just how much playing football means to him. Plus, he is naturally talented at it, which I can’t lie and say I’m not jealous about.

Surprisingly, I can say that I love playing football. The surprising part of it all is that I can actually say that I love something out loud. The sport started out as just thing I could do in my back garden when I wanted to be outside, starting just after breakfast and running around until lunch chasing a ball.

I played the sport every chance I got; any free time that I could waste watching a match on the television or laying around doing nothing. I don’t spend too much time at home if I didn't havea reason to.

I don’t use kicking a ball around to escape from that because I know that it’s not going protect me, just like when Niall can’t protect himself from Zayn and I. He seemed to have other people to do that for him now. I knew he wouldn’t be able to stick up from himself.

Now, back to where I was. It’s been about twenty minutes since Harry turned into some demanding prick and Niall's hero, which I found to be bitterly amusing. I've never seen Harry act out like that towards me, well towards anyone ever. He was too much of a softy in my opinion but then he shoved me until I tripped and fell over Niall's body. It was a shock to me that I found fight in a person like Harry but I had to cover it up by being just as rude to him as I've been to anyone else. I couldn't blow my cover.

Then  I heard my phone ring from inside my pocket and slipped it out to see who it was. 

“Great, can’t wait to hear this.” I muttered to myself as I let out a sigh, and, just before I answered the call, I rubbed the bottom of my palm on my eye, shaking my head as I prepared myself to hear the damage report from Zayn.  “Ah, Zayn, that didn’t take you too long.”