The Kissing Booth (Niall Horan FanFic)

Chapter Eighteen

"Oh Elena, there's someone here to see you." Her mother, Audrey,sang as we both entered her room. I heard a groan and some harsh words muttered as we made our way to her bed.

"I'll be in the next room if you need me." Audrey smiled softly before leaving me alone with Elena.

"Who are you? Some therapist? I heard them talking about getting me a therapist. I hate therapists, they're stupid. Write that down on your little clipboard." She rambled through the duvet that covered her face.

"I actually want to be a photographer, you know, capture the worlds' beauty. Things no one really knows is there." I said as I took a seat on the edge of her bed. She slowly revealed her face and sat up on the bed. My eyes wondered to her wrists that were, as I was told, stitched up.

"Who are you?" She repeated, covering her wrists from my view. "Esme Rose Harris, senior at James H. Rosewood High School in the very heart of New York City." I spoke proudly.

"Elena Jane Timothy, freshmen at Pilsburg High in White Plains, New York." She copied my introduction.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl." I smiled politely with a bitter face in return. "Oh please. I bet my mom paid you since your probably a model to tell me that. Now if you're done here, I'd love for you to go." She spat.

"Actually I work at a coffee shop and take AP classes. Only in Global and English because I hate any other subject. And your mom didn't pay me, she didn't even know I existed till my teacher Mr. Victor introduced us. I'm on my senior trip right now, but I volunteered to be here with you because I want too." I went on.

"Why the hell are you volunteering to be here then?" She questioned.

"Because I've been through hell and back and I survived. Now I want to help someone survive the journey too." I gave myself a mental high five for that amazing statement.

"Oh really? Let me guess, some child hood bully who tugged the ends of your hair?" She sounded annoyed.

"Actually three and they used to cut the ends off after sticking there old gum in it. But that's not the only reason I used to cut every day. I had an abusive dad and I just had to be perfect to please him. I tried to commit so many times...one time I almost succeeded. But it left me so traumatized that I get panic attacks, well used too. My world was a mess, but I fixed it slowly but surely." I told her.

Her face soften up and she gently grazed my wrists, following the scars. "It wasn't only mental abuse but physical. And you'd never guess it, but there friends of mine now." I continued to say as she finished tracing them.

"Sorry for my tude, it's just hard because I'm not the famous 'I had a bully' story. I mean, I do, but it's me. I'm my bully. Society is my bully." She spoke quietly.

"Did you starve yourself too? That didn't work to well for me given the fact my mom works I'm the medical field." I slightly smiled.

"And so much more. I never met someone who's dealt with something like I do." She whispered.

"As sad as it sounds, there are millions of people who've had the same problems. But something they all forget, it gets better. There's gonna be a point in time where you realize how stupid you were being, believing no one loves you? Of course someone loves you, there's a bunch of people who care. We were just all to dumb to open our eyes a little wider. But I promise there'll be a moment, and you'll get a full view of what's in front of you. And that my friend, is hope." I said, lying down on her bed now.

"Hope. Huh, that's never going to happen for me..." She sighed, lying down next to me. "When did you get this hope?"

"When I saw the look on my moms face, my blood staining her favorite white shirt as I slipped into a coma. I was stuck with that look in her eyes...filled with pain and sorrow...and all I could think, I don't want her to feel like that. I don't want to be the reason she cries, I don't want to be like this anymore." I thought back to the distinct memory, tears ready to slip out.