Nobody Cares. (One Direction Fan Fiction)

First Night

By the time we finished the tour of the house my eyes were wide and my jaw dropped. No way in hell this can be their house, or even a house. Like I thought it was three floors, but the rooms are pretty big.

On the first floor is the music room, living room, game room, and kitchen. The second floor has Liam's , Louis' and Niall's rooms, they each have their own bathroom. And the third has mine, Harry's, and Zayn's rooms.

Our tour group got smaller by the time we reached the third floor. Each couple went to their own rooms when we got to it. So now it's just me, Zayn, and Avery.

Zayn has his hands over my eyes as he guides me to my room, while Avery is giggling. "Okay. Ready?" Zayn asked. I nodded excitedly then heard the door open. Zayn gently pushed me into the room then removed his hands.

My eyes widened and jaw dropped, for the thousandth time today. I took a step further into the room and gasped at how perfect it is.

Three of the walls are a soft, light, pastel green while the one of them are white. Across from the white wall is a queen sized bed. The white headboard is pressed against the middle of the wall. The rest of the bed is painted white with a big light green comforter, that matches the walls, is neatly laying on the bed with four white pillows. The bed is a canopy bed so there's a white canopy hanging around the bed. On each side of the bed is a white bedside table with carvings on them.

There's a white desk to the right of the bed, I'm standing in front of the bed so it's my right. Sitting on top of the desk is a white MacBook and a journal. On the left side of the bed there's an open door to the bathroom. Which from this angle looks ginormous. Against the last green wall is a white dresser. There's one last door near the desk on the white wall, I'm guessing is my closet.

"Do you like it?" Avery asked, snapping me out of my gaze. A smile spread across my lips as I nodded eagerly. I ran my fingers over the canopy. Ever since I was little I've wanted one of these. I always thought princesses had them, so I wanted one. Now I do.

"Why don't you get some sleep, it's really late. We'll see you in the morning baby doll. Sweet dreams." Zayn said them gave me a kiss on the forehead. "Goodnight Zayn. Night Avery." Avery came over and gave me a hug then said "Goodnight."

I looked through the dresser when suddenly all of the exhaustion hit me. I know I slept on the plane but I'm still tired.

Don't judge me.

I guess the girls went shopping for me, because I've never seen most of these clothes before. Some of them are my style, others aren't. I picked out a pair of fuzzy shorts with turtles on them and a black tank top then climbed into bed. This bed is so freaking comfy! It feels like I'm laying on a thousands feathers.

Right as I was about to close my eyes my phone vibrated on my night stand. I had to squint to see the message because I already took off my glasses and was to lazy to put them back on. Finally I made out what the message said and smiled.

"Hope u like ur room. I dont feel like walkin up all those stairs. Night princess! Mandy also says goodnight."

It was from Niall. This time I didn't get upset he called me princess. For once I feel like a princess. Not my dads princess. Especially not my moms princess. But the boys princess. And I'm glad to be theirs.

For a first time in a long time I had a peaceful sleep. Until the nightmare hit me.

My body is lying on the cold bathroom floor of my house. The boys did show up. They never broke the door open. The bottle of pills is still open and on the floor next to me.

The worst part is that I'm watching it from an angle. I'm not seeing it from my body because I'm dead. As in, not moving.

What surprised me is that the door did open. It's the boys. All of them have tears streaming down their faces. But they're too late.

Zayn ran over to my body and pressed his pointer and middle finger against my neck looking for a pulse. "Belle wake up!" He yelled at my dead body. He got no response. I walked over to him and placed my hand on his shoulder, but he didn't seem to notice.

Oh right, I'm witnessing this. Not living it.

"Belle! Belle!" He continued to yell through his tears as he shook my body. But the only movement from my body was because Zayn moved it.

He let my body fall to the ground as the boys came over to his side. Niall pulled him into his arms as they both cried. Louis and Liam joined their hug. Harry stepped towards my body and just stared at it. The tears didn't bother him. All he did was let the silent tears fall as he stared at my dead body.

I shot up from my bed gasping for air. Thank God it was just a dream. It didn't happen. I'm alive. Just in case I pushed my index and middle finger against my wrist to check for a pulse. It's there.

I laid back down in bed, my head falling into the feather consisting pillows. Then I noticed my cheeks are wet. Was I crying? Great, I was crying in my sleep.

I tried to go back to sleep, but it didn't work. All I can think about is the boys crying. No directioner wants to make the boys cry. And when you're the one making them cry it kills you. I made them cry. It's my fault they cried.

All I want to do right now is cut. The pain just makes me tempted to use anything to cut. But if I do the boys and girls will hear me. Most likely I'll scream like the last time so I'll wake one of them up and they'll come to my room. That can't happen.

Then I remembered what Rose taught me. One day she sent me this picture that on was side was this person's wrist, but instead of cuts there were lines drawn on it. It said when you have the urge to cut take a pen and draw lines. No matter how many lines you draw it's better then cutting yourself.

So that's what I did. I climbed out of bed, put on my glasses so I'm not blind, and walked over to my desk. Sitting next to my laptop is a cup containing a bunch of pens and pencils. I took out a black inked pen and continuously swiped the point of the pen against my wrist. My scars are almost gone so all you see is the pen marks.

After I drew about twenty lines I placed the pen back in the cup. I felt a bit better, not a lot, but enough. I ran my fingers through my hair as I let a sigh escape my lips. Now what do I do? I have this temptation to go on twitter. Part of me wants to, but the other says not to.

I know there's going to be hate. But I want to see what they're saying. So I did it. I opened but the brand new MacBook and instantly went onto twitter.

Once I logged on I instantly went to my interactions. It was filled with people saying shit about me.

"@BellyBelle17 youre just a charity case! The boys dont like u! They just feel bad for u!"

"Why would @onedirection want @BellyBelle17?! Shes ugly and disgustion!"

"@BellyBelle17 is such a whore! What 13 year old lives with 5 teenage boys?! Like get a life!"

There was one tweet that made my breathing stop along with my heartbeat. When I read it, my world seemed to crash down.

"The boys only adopted @BellyBelle17 cus she commited suicide but survived. She cuts and they only feel bad about her! #evenfailsatsuicide"

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Author's Note

Sorry it's short. I had writers block and lately I have a lot on my mind so that's making it harder. But no matter what I'm sticking to my writing schedule. I'll try and update this weekend, but my older brother comes in from college this weekend so I might be spending time with him.

I have spring break this week so extra updates! YAY! Don't forget to vote, comment, and follow me! Love you all!!!

Love, Isabella