When I get home, I’m exhausted both physically, mentally, and emotionally. Ive had more than my usual of drama for the day.
As usual, I take a shower when I get home, trying to wash out all of my worries. For a while, I just stand under the shower head, letting the hot water relax my musclues and my mind.
After I step out of the shower, I walk from the bathroom to my bedroom with the towel wrapped around me. Suddenly I don’t feel tired anymore, so I decide to do the same thing I do every day before I go to sleep.
Getting dressed, I grab my phone and walk to my bad, holding the towel around my hair, trying to get as much water out of it as I can with the towel. I unlock my phone, going to instagram first. I notice that my notifications are quite a bit higher than usual. Ive been tagged in seventy-three pictures, so I go to my profile page and look at the photos I have been put in. I scroll through them, shocked in a way about them.
Every single picture is either me walking into the O2L house gate or a picture of me and kian together. I scroll through the pictures, pleased with the captions at first.
“Are Kian and Maddie getting back together??? OMFG I hope so! I ship them sooo hard!” one of the captions says on a picture of me and Kian.
“PLEEASSSEE tell me that they’re getting back together!! Maddie is so perfect!” another says, bringing a smile to my face.
But of course, not everyone in the world is nice. It could never happen.
“Ew, please tell me Maddie and Kian are NOT getting back together. I hate her. Like shes not even pretty,” a negative photo caption says. There are multiple comments on the picture, some disagreeing and some rudely agreeing.
“No. this isn’t happening. Maddie doesn’t deserve kian. Shes a whore. No. this won’t happen. She’s not good enough for him.” Another says.
I force myself to stop looking at the photos I was tagged in. I look at my notifications, seeing tons of comments. Many of them are nice, calling me pretty or something sweet like that.
But another amount of them, a bigger amount of them, are rude, saying mean things that make my self esteem go down a great amount.
I finally force myself to stop looking at the comments and instead I get onto twitter.
My mentions are blown up and it takes me a while to get to an actual mention because there are notifications of people that have liked tweets I was mentioned in.
When I get to the mentions, I find some of them very lovely.
I read Tweets about me Kian getting together making them happy, tons of positive comments. People tweeted me pictures from our relationship and they all make me smile while at the same time they make me sad. I almost wish the rumors were true.
I also see some very rude tweets telling me some not so nice things.
“Fuck off Maddie!!! You already had your chance with Kian! Bitch. @Maddie_Banx,” one says, making my stomach turn.
“Why doesn’t she just fall off of a cliff on accident? Damn that bitch doesn’t give up,” another says. It was quoted and someone mentioned me in it.
I scroll through the seemingly endless amount of mean comments, realizing there are more negative comments than there are positive ones. It really upsets me.
I tap the part that leads me to my profile page. When I see that I have over ninety nine DMs, I click over to that screen.
Starting at the top, I begin reading and replying to a few of them.
“Hey Maddie! I just wanted to tell you that your strength amazes me. I look up to you! Are you and Kian going to get back together?” the one at the top reads.
So I reply to the girl.
“Hi! Thank you! I’m flattered that you look up to me!” I intentionally ignore her question. Although I doubt Kian and I will get back together, I don’t want to comment on the subject.
I click to the next one. “Maddie! I really hope that you read this! I have been trying to get you to reply to my DMs forever!! I love you girl!”
“I read it! haha I love you too!” I reply to her.
I continue to read through a few sweet DMs, sending back replies.
About the seventh message down is when I get to the negative direct messages. The first one was mildly rude, but as I kept reading, the more and more they began to hurt.
“Wow. You just couldn’t stay away now could you? We thought you were going to leave Kian alone. Leave. Him. Alone. He’s not yours anymore.”
“It would be in your best interest if you’d stay away from Kian.”
“Bitch! Do you really think Kian would date you again? He learned his lesson the first time he was with you!”
“Listen. This may be hard for you to understand, but NO ONE LIKES YOU. The entire fandom hates you! Kian hates you! That’s why you broke up! So stay away!”
“Go kill yourself.”
“Leave Kian and the rest of the boys alone. You’re not even pretty, so why are you trying?”
“okay what part of stay away do you not understand? Hang yourself.”
In life, you see people say these mean things and you can hardly believe that someone could say something like that. That’s how I am.
And you think that words can’t hurt someone. But they can. I never realized how much words do hurt until the first time I got hate. It was disgusting and so painful. But now, it hurts worse.
It hurt when I was with Kian. But he was there for me to help me get through it. Now, he’s not here to help me, so the sting isn’t dulled.
Tears slip from my eyes as I read through the messages. I don’t reply. I don’t unfollow. I don’t block. I don’t report. I just keep reading them.
I can’t stop myself from continuously reading the messages that cause my insides to turn and burn. The pain keeps growing but I don’t stop myself from reading the next messages.
The further down the list I read, the harder it becomes for me to stop reading them. It’s almost like an unhealthy addiction, except I don’t like the feeling they give me by reading them.
Finally I break and instead of silent tears, I begin sobbing, trying to muffle the sound by grabbing my pillow and holding it to my mouth. I try to stop, but the sobs just keep coming, as if trying to push out the pain.
“Maddie? Are you okay?” Angela calls. I didn’t realize she was here.
“I-I’m fine!” I reply, my voice cracking.
I sniffle, keeping quiet. I don’t want to make her think something is wrong because she will pry until I tell her.
I hear her walk away from the door. Once I am sure she can’t hear me, I begin to cry again.
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Hey! Early update so that means its short! I wanted to update just a little bit! :)
Enjoy!
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xox -Delilah