Bullied By One Direction (One Direction Fanfiction)

Bullied By One Direction





Chapter 1





It all started when i'd gone to another highschool. Wich means my 4th. My mum and my dad are always gone. They do charity work for children with no mums. The funny thing is, they care more about other children than me. Maybe because i'm not good enough. Maybe i'm not worth it. Or maybe they just want another kid. I gave all those questions up when we moved for the 3rd time. I realized i wouldn't get any answers. Everytime i brought the subject up, I heard in the phone on the background playing kids, while they called my mum like she was their mum. That hurts you know. If you want to know my story, we have to go back in time for a year.



I look at myself in the mirror, and a girl with long brown straight hair and big turqouize eyes looks back. She looks sad, and she has no sparkle in her eyes. For no 7 years. She wears vans, a hoodie and shorts with tights. A tiny body, but not that short. She's about to go to her 4th highschool.



The first day was always hard for me. People would judge me with one glance, without knowing me. Without knowing my story. They would whisper about me, watch me with every move, looking for something to hurt me with. I sigh, and grab my bag of the table. I yell a 'bye' to my empty house, and the sound of the slamming door echoes in the hall. I walk towards my bike, and start reading through my messages. I don't have any friends though. The people who talk to me and pretending to be nice, always run a week later like a herd of horses after the bunch of sluts, you'd call them 'popular'. You could say that i'm a lonely child, but I also have my own things. I don't express my feelings with crying or watching stupid talkshows with dudes or dudettes like Dr Phil. I express my feelings with singing and writing songs. The reason I haven't commit suicide yet, is because of my music.



When I walk to the headmaster's office, I see it's a very modern and nice looking school. At that time I didn't know that some jerks would ruin the nice reputation. I walk through the door, but then someone bumps into me. I fall on the ground, and my books are spread everywhere. I look up to see who I bumped into. It's a boy, with dark brown hair wich looks like that Justin Bieber dude but then more wavy, and sparkling sweet brown eyes. He looks around, very fast and when he sees it's safe, he pulls me up. I'm wondering why he's looking like that. Like he is hiding something. Is there something wrong? I look at him questionly,



But then he pulls his hand out and says almost mumbling:



"Hi.. I'm Liam. Are you alright?" He munbles and he let my hand go very quickly. He doesn't wait for my answer, he just looks around the place again, and then walks away quickly.



Strange.



Usually people would just let me sit on the floor, waiting for me to get up and then struggle while they're laughing at me.



Still, he's strange. He probably doesn't want to be seen with me. But his eyes told me otherwise.



You know, I have this thing I can look into someone's eyes and I kind of read them. It's weird, so I guess that's why I haven't told anybody.



I walk again into the office. I'm in a very tidy room. Too tidy for me. It's very formal. I couldn't live with that. That's just like hiding your problems. Cleaning them up. Putting them away in closets just to ignore them. Although, that's exactly what i'm doing.



An old lady in her mid sixties with a neat suit sits with her arms crossed over her chest on a chair behind her desk. She has a strict look in her eyes, near anger. She is wearing tiny glasses on the top of her nose. I'm wondering why it didn't fell off yet. On the desk stands a card, with "Headmaster Mrs. Hawkins". In the whole room, is no dust to be seen.



A high, shrieking voice with the old'fashioned british accent says :



"You must be the new one? Ms. Sarah Newton?" She scrunches her nose up, while looking at my clothes, she sniffs a little. I feel a little uncomfortable. I may be smiling from the outside, but i'm dying from the inside. You know, I actually always have that. I'm not gonna let everyone know i'm actually a very sensitive person. Then they'd have another thing to bully me with. Then they know another weak spot torture me with. That's not what I want.



"Yes ma'am, that's me." I say, looking Down at my shoes.



She's still analyzing me. I don't feel welcome here. Do you know that feeling when you are too much? Not needed? The third wheel as they say? Well that's exactly how I feel right now.



Maybe I should've seen by that time I wasn't welcome at that school at all.



Mrs Hawkins looks up at me from her papers. She looks at me again, I feel her gaze going up and down my being. I feel like there is a spotlight on me or something. She keeps watching me, and I don't like it. The way she looks at me, scares me. She gives me a glare full of conceit.



"I will lead you to your first class young lady."



She frowns, and now she looks like a bulldog. A very posh one. I nod, and before she stands up, she rubs her skirt to make sure there's no dust. She wears tiny little heels, and the high bun on her head makes her look even more intimidating. She holds the papers in her hands, close to her chest. She walks gently to the door, and scrunches her nose up again. She holds the door for me open, and I grab my bag. I drag my bag over the floor, and Mrs Hawkins looks like a bomb wich will explode every moment. Woops. Guess I just ruined her spotless floor. I'm a little amused by her facial expression. She looks like she really is goin to blow up, and her face is as purple as a blueberry. Don't know why blueberry's are blueberry's while they're not even blue. They're definetly purple. It's like a mask. I could be a blueberry. I also wear a mask. I'm not the funny, happy, life-loving girl I seem. I never was that girl. And I never will be. That I look like it, doesn't mean that's me. In fact, i'm not even a bit like that. I always wanted to be that girl. Carefree, no shit going around behind my back about me. Just a girl with loving friends, a loving family and maybe a loving boyfriend. But I discovered that that would never be me.



I walk after Mrs. Hawkins trough the high ceiling halls. We're definetly in the basement now. A huge basement. As modern it was upstairs, as old fashioned it is here. It kind of reminds me of Hogwarts. It's just as old and spooky. The walls are high covered with paintings. Unfortunatly they're not moving. The high ceiling is painted with angels and cheery animals. Guess they are trying to depict that that should be heaven and deep down here hell. That makes sense. It seems like those hallways never end, and the clicking of the heels of Mrs. Hawkins are starting to annoy me.





I feel like we're walking for an hour, this must've been the biggest basement I've ever seen. When finally she turns and points with her wrinkly but careful dipped in nail polish finger, she points at a bright door. I look questionly at her, but she gives me this get-in-there-or-you-get-detention-and-trust-me-it'll-be-very-hard-and-unforgettable look. I hurry a bit more and open the door.





As I walk in the room, I hesitate a little. But then I feel her wrinkly hands pushing me harsh inside, making me fall on the floor. I lay with my back on the floor and my books spreaded on the floor. Great first day already. When I awkwardly get up, i'm greated by a bunch of laughters from the corner. I get up, and I see 20 pair of eyes stuck on me, now this is what I was talking about. The rolling eyes over my body, the laughters at me, I have been trough this before. Let's say, 3 times. And it makes me hate it everytime a bit more. It makes me want to sink a little further into the floor. It makes me want to hide a little better.



The teacher is called Mr. Faggins. He's at least as old as Mrs. Hawkins, maybe even older. He wears old clothes wich my Grandad wouldn't even wear if he was alive. While I grab my bag together, I cough loudly. He turns his face to me, looking very bored.



''Yes?'' He answers, in a posh accent.



''Well..Err..I'm the new girl.'' I say, shyly.



I stick my hand out to shake his, but he ignores it by looking at it grossly. Has everyone in this school hosophobia? Great.



He looks trough the papers Mrs. Hawkins gave him. He looks at it, trying to concentrate himself. All the people in my 'new class' are already busy with something else important. Except for 5 boys. I recognise one of them, the dude who bumped into me in the hallway. He's accompanied by a dude with curly hair wich is swept aside and sparling blue/green eyes. He had a mischievous smirk on his face, near mean. He's clearly the leader of his clique. Next to him, a dude with also brown hair, and obvious stripes on his shirt. Let's call him Stripy for now. Next to the other side of Curly sits a tanned guy,a little on the background looking like a tough boy but his eyes betrays his shyness. Next to him sits a blonde dude, looking all cute while munching a burger. He isn't very interested in me, he's more into his burger.



''So.. New girl huh?'' Curly smirks. I already dislike him. He has a way too big ego. Way way way too big.



''Seems your bag isn't so new.'' Tough boy says, helding his head a little oblique, faking a compassionate look.



Before I knew it, Curly steps out of the line, grabs my bag, and throws it into the trash bin. I swallow my tears away, and I blush by all the laughter that escapes from the rest of the class since they watched us with amusement. Mr. Faggins didn't even looked up. I walk to the bin, and let escape a few tears. I rub the flaws of my bag, and turn with a red head to the back of the class. I see the smirks of the 5 dudes getting bigger and bigger. They weren't done with me, I can tell ya.



I put my bag on the table next to a dude, he looks like he's a goth. I think he's also the outsider, just like me. This is how it always goes. I am new in a class, people make fun of me, look how I react, and laugh at me. From this point it only will go worse and worse.



''Mind if I take this seat?'' I ask, a little with a shaking voice. You'll never know how people react. Although, he was the only one who didn't laugh.



''Yes, that's fine.'' He groans, and turns back to his work. He's not much of a talker I see. Well that's better than people who make fun of me. I don't like these 5 boys.



As the bell goes, I walk fast out of the classroom. I feel like everybody is staring at me, once again. When I look back, I see these 5 boys whispering and pointing at me, grinning. I turn red and walk fast through the basement halls. I have French now, I like that. Luckily it's upstairs, in the modern building. I like it better up there. The Goth who was sitting next to me during history, follows me fast and I hear his footsteps following me. I turn around, ready for another bunch of laughs, but he smiles at me and says with a nice and sweet voice:



''Ehm..i'm sorry, but there's something on your back.''He turns to my back, grabs a piece of paper wich says HIT ME, I'M NEW.



Tears are welling up again, and he sees it. He pulls me closer into a hug, and rubs my back a bit.



''I'm sorry, I know exactly how you feel. These guys are jerks.'' He pulls back out of the hug and walks with me to french. God, what did I do? Why me? Why is it always me! I never did anything wrong. We walk to French, and finally something else can distract me now, something I like. I decide to concentrate myself completeley on French, not on those jerks.

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