A Selfless Sacrifice - A Niam Horayne Story *ON HOLD*

Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry for the late update! (Usually every Sunday's and Thursday's)

A Selfless Sacrifice

Chapter 2:

Niall’s Diary Entry 2:

Well here I am again, sitting all alone in this dull, old bedroom. Faint yellow walls, dirty and stained with chaps of paint coming off from every corner. I’ve just returned from hell. My psychiatrist; Sarah. She asked to see my diary today, so I showed her. She said she was disappointed in me. That I didn’t show her my true feelings that I still wasn’t letting my wall down and being honest with her. Other than that tedious event, my day consisted of basically nothing. So instead of boring you, I’ll just continue on with the unfinished story of my life and the many events that occurred which led me to where I am today, with this diary, the diary which contains all my true feelings that I’ve been hiding from everyone, everyone including myself.  

So every day I’m introduced to different ways of torture. I don’t really see the point of going to school anymore because most of the time I end up in the sick bay. It’s pretty much become my second home. Although I never complain I just put up with it. It’s funny how Liam doesn’t see that what he is doing to me is wrong. To be honest I don’t even know why I’m targeted. I haven’t done a thing. I’m just thankful though that he doesn’t do anything to my family. They mean the world to me.

Greg; I don’t know what I’d do without him. He is one of the reasons why I took over the family, because Greg had too much ahead of him, too much potential to give it all away. He’s the reason I still have hope, hope for a future, hope to find someone who will love me, except me for me and hope that I am worth something.

And my mother, I love her, but she’s just not the same. I love her, I really do but everything’s so different now, especially with my dad gone. My dad was like my inspiration, I looked up to him, he was such a strong willed, confident, caring and loving man but he was taken away from us, taken away to a better place. But my mum, she’s gone, well she’s here in person but, the old, caring, loving, bubbly mum I used to have is gone, and I miss the old her, she was and still is everything to me. It’s kind of like the Gotye and Kimbra song. Now she’s just somebody that I used to know. But like I said before, I still and will forever love her and protect her.

 Speaking of songs, I sing. It's my only outlet in life. Singing to me is like a lifeline, something I turn to when I feel like giving up, when I feel like I want to leave it all behind and leave. Singing was what got me through the incident with dad and that’s what gets me through the bullying, it’s what gets me through life.  I suppose singing for me is like my own personal life support, the machines in hospitals that keep people alive. If somebody were to “pull the plug” on that machine. I’d be dead. It’s not only singing though. It’s my guitar. My six string as I like to call it. Dad taught me how to play, he was amazing. He could play anything and everything, I swear he could play in his sleep, he was seriously that good.

When he ‘left’ us, I stopped playing for a long time. Around 2 and half years. It was Greg who convinced me to pick it up again. And I’m thankful for that, very thankful. If he gave up on convincing me to go back to it, I would have let Dad down, let Greg and myself down. So now I play and I sing.

It’s funny that as much as I get bullied, when I leave this stupid school I could maybe even become world famous. And all of the people that have taunted me, well they would be working for me instead. I could be rich, a multimillionaire, billionaire. That would be great. I would buy mum, Greg and I a new house. Move back to Ireland and fulfil not only my dreams but dad’s. Sometimes I wonder why I even think that I could possibly succeed. It’s ludicrous to even suggest that I’d be able to do it. But for me it’s a flicker of hope. I beacon of anticipation for the future.

But then again, someone as useless and stupid as me would never get that far in life. I can’t even talk without getting punched in the face, let alone sing. Who would even be close to love someone like me, because I’m no one, I’m just a toy for everyone else to laugh at.

No one understands me. No one believes me either. It sucks, it really does. Day after day, week after week, the same thing occurs. In the morning I walk to school having people laugh at me; call me worthless, call me stupid. I get to school, get shoved up against my locker, get a few punches thrown at me and more insults spat straight into my face. Recess and lunch times, I get cornered, pushed up against the wall, and start getting beat up and laughed at. Then I’m left there, all alone. People pass but they don’t even acknowledge the fact that it’s wrong what I go through every single day.

After Liam Payne and the rest of the bullies finally leave, I stay on the cold wet concrete afraid to move knowing that I’ve got a lot of new injuries from that short, but long period of time. But what was strange about me was that I would never cry, never ever. Yes, maybe a few tears will spill out every so often, but I promised myself, I promised myself to stay strong enough to hold those tears in, to stay strong for my mother, to stay strong for myself. And that’s what happens every day, every day since 7th grade.

Ohh by the way, I should really start writing dates on these so it’s easier to keep track! I will remember to do so for my next entry, until then, bye!

Niall Horan