“I don’t think you understand,” he said sharply in my ear, his nails digging into my forearm and making me whimper. “Exactly who you’re standing up to.”
“Please,” I pleaded with him, cowering away as much as I could. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
“You’re right,” he hissed. “You weren’t thinking. Which is why I’m going to teach you to think about your actions.”
I let out a squeak as he dug his nails in further. There was sure to be marks - there always were. My chest was tight as I fended off worried tears brimming my eyes. Niall scared me, more than anything ever had - or probably ever will.
Suddenly, my bag was ripped from its position on my shoulder. I almost let out a sigh of relief as his I felt his fingers retreat from my welted skin. But the relief was short-lived, seeing him dig his hand through my bag. There was nothing I could do. I rubbed my arm, my fingers moving across the small, but definite fingernail indentations left behind.
I watched on as he continued to dig through my bag, then found what he was searching for. I gasped as he let my bag and the rest of its contents drop to the floor, revealing my literacy project in his hands - a four page essay on the history and play-writes of William Shakespeare. I’d written it out in pen across lined paper, and it still needed to be typed up. A four page essay that I’d failed to keep hidden from Niall. The project was due tomorrow. I should have known he’d use this as an incentive.
“Don’t,” I said weakly, scooping up the contents of my bag and trying not to let my gaze fall to my marked arm. “Please, I’m sorry.”
“You should’ve thought about that before you opened your mouth,” he snapped, kicking my notebook out of my hands and clear across the hall.
Everyone had left the school, since it was five o’clock. Niall and I had to stay after, since I’d been assigned his tutor for the past several months. No one, not even the teachers were around to see interactions like this between Niall and I. He was an excellent actor, Niall. He could get anyone to believe him. Unfortunately, he’d made a point of making me seem like the one being short-tempered with him. I can assure you, this was not the case.
“Niall, I was just suggesting that-”
My words were cut off by the deafening sound of paper tearing. My jaw dropped as I saw four pieces of paper torn into eight. Then sixteen, then even more. I cried out as he let the papers flutter to the floor, scattering them with his feet.
“Oh my God!” I whispered, scrambling to keep track of all the pieces. I’d spent hours on it, several days worth of work and research. And Niall had made short work of it, diminishing it in seconds.
“Next time you tell me I’m wrong, or call me stupid,” he spat, resting his foot on the last piece I’d failed to collect. “It’ll be much worse than this.”
With that, he turned on his heel and stalked down the empty hallway. As soon as he’d cleared the corner, I sank to the ground. I was worn out and needed a break. No one was there to see me, anyway.
