Cyberspace (A Zayn Malik Love Story)(Completed)

Chapter 2

Hailey's P.O.V

'Good morning you! Have a good day; I'll talk to you later yeah? Don't let the haters hate!:) xxx'

This text is what I wake up to everyday, not the exact copy, but something around it, and of course you guessed it, it is from MrNiceGuy101. Its weird, as I have to refer to him as that, but I don't know his name, I wish I could, but I don't and probably never will know it. 'Hey! Thank you and you have a nice one to! What you doing today? Xxx' is what I reply, sending the text I checked the time on my home screen, 9: 06. How am I up so early? I know what you're thinking, early, that's normal for the weekend, but for me normal is 11am not 9.

I can hear noises from the kitchen which indicates that one of my parents are up, making breakfast or something. Breakfast won't be for me though, just for my parents, why you may ask? Well in the rules, I have to cook my own food, do my own washing; basically I have to do everything for myself. I'm fine with it, it means that I know where everything is and I know what is what. But what is slightly annoying, my parents don't care about me. I know you're thinking selfish bitch of course your parents care about you, but they don't. They act like they do sure, but I know they don't, they have proved that. My dad, he used to beat me, use to, he doesn't as much now but does when I annoy him, and then my mum, well she just watches him do it.

I don't think there has ever been a time when my dad has hit me and my mum has stopped him, some dads hit their children if the child does something wrong. My dad well he blames me for everything, he blames me if he has a bad day, if he loses his phone, then he punishes me, which results in a punch in the stomach, or face, a kick in the stomach, anything like that. Is it weird to say that I don't feel it when he does it, he tells me I'm worthless, a piece of shit. My dad even made me get a tattoo, on the side of my hand a couple months back, when he was on a rage. It says 'nequam' which means worthless in Latin. It's noticeable too, so when I'm at school people ask me why I have a fake tattoo on, if only they knew.

My phone vibrated, he has replied 'going into town with some mates, the skate park you know, what about you? Xxx', what am I doing today, what's the date? The 9th? I have something going on today, oh I remember the doctors! I know doctors don't open on a Saturday, but they do for counselling, and I go to counselling. I know what you're thinking, why do you go to counselling? Well I have depression, with the stress from school and being bullied and my dad, a year back, I tried to kill myself. By taking an over does on sleeping pills, my auntie found me, and took me to hospital. I was made to do it, to help me, then I started to cut myself, but it never worked, so now I just smoke. I know, it makes me sound like I'm a wannabe hard person, but I don't, I do it as it makes me calm, takes my mind off things.

'Going to the doctors:/ and have fun!xxx', I reply, once the confirmation that the text had sent popped up on my screen. I pushed off my covers and walked over to my bathroom. Turning on the hot water, I strip off my pyjamas and jumped into the steaming hot water, the touch burning my skin, but eventually getting immune to it. After showering I jump out of the shower, and wrap a towel around my body, letting my drenched brown hair, hang around my chest.  I take out my black leggings with crosses scattered over the material out of my drawer, and then the Take That top that flows around my body. After getting changed, I put on my black TOMS, the only pair I own, and then sit at my vanity table, to dry my hair and do my makeup.

Once my brown locks are completely dry, and the lose waves are back in sight, I apply my make up, foundation, concealer, powder, eyeliner and mascara. Now that I'm ok with how I look, I grab my phone off my bed, 11:04. It's taken me 2 hours to get ready, oh dear, I'm getting slower, my appointments at 12.