warning: self harm briefly, may be triggering. Be aware and read at own risk.
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It was 10:45 exactly.
The clock was ticking slowly as I waited for 11 o'clock to arrive. It was just killing me that I would have to wait until then for a free class.
I usually spent free class reading in the library or studying for a test that is two weeks away. On a rare occasion I will go outside and actually let the sun touch my skin and use one of the multiple pairs of sunglasses I have. But more likely than not I will go to the library and read.
I will read everything that includes some sort of tragedy in it. Why you may ask? Well, nothing occurs for real unless you feel some sort of pain behind it. No story can actually be a full story until someone gets stabbed, whether it is emotionally or physically. It may just be an adrenaline rush or the idea of someone else feeling pain but it was a lot more enjoyable to read. That sounds very sinister so let me re-word that: When you are able to realize you are not alone it makes life more easier to grab a hold to. You may never be able to filly grab on but at least you can grasp it.
But back to why I am waiting for 11 this very day in this very year of highschool. I have joined a club.
Not a usual club.
This club is meamt for all the kids like me. The ones who never seem to pay attention but still get A's. The ones who can come up with ideas your mind can barely even fathom. The ones who hate themselves with an undying passion but something original about them just stood out so much that someone stood up and told them this is where they needed to be.
It was some thing like that Rudolph movie. The island with the toys.
I just remember that one word that they called us, it just kept ringing in my head. The sound of it as it echoed through my skull. The way they said it so nonchalantly as if it was normal, like it was perfect that that's what we are
Misfits.
That was the word the nurse used to describe me. A misfit.
She told me I was one in a billion. I was told this after I was sent to a small white room in a big building where bars covered the windows and the glass was unbreakable. It was a hospital, or asylum, or crazy house whatever you shall call it. But I was there.
I wasn't crazy per say, but, I was found alone in my room surrounded by a shattered mirror, drawing on my skin with the biggest shard I could get.
So they sent me there for a while and did more tests than I could count and more medications than healthy. They did all this just to tell me in the end that I was a misfit. Like I didn't already know.
But you see I still have the gla-
And it's finally 11.
I stood up slowly, grabbing the few books I had and my homework before leaving the room.
I felt like everything was in slow motion, like it seemed to slow down so my heart could catch up with me. I could feel it banging in my chest
thump thump
I looked at the signs in the hall, maneuvering my way around everyone, barely making eye contact.
thump thump
I counted the doors as I went. 234....
236.... 238...... 230.
thump thump
Time seemed to go slower as I just stood in front of that door
thump thump
I could see all of the people inside. Not many kids that much different looking than me. Some very tall and thing with plain faces. Some short and pudgy with glasses and too much jewelry. Some with way too much black on. Some with not enough clothes on.
But one with bright blonde hair and sparking black eyes.
And I knew just who he was.
Niall Horan.
thump thump
My heart raced faster, my eyes blinked faster, my breathing became slower.
thump thump thump
I can't do this.
thump thump thump thump
I can't breathe.
thump thump thump thump
Help.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP
"He's here" I whispered and leaned on the wall.
What does it matter that Niall Horan is here?
Because he shouldn't be.
He's "popular"
Niall is that boy that every girls wanted to date and every boy seemed ti hate but was just jealous of. His laugh would echo in your mind hours after you heard it. He could make almost any one smile just by smiling as well. He was a Junior. I was one as well. But all of the seniors knew who he was and loved him.
Why was he here.
Was he just here to be that misfit that actually fits in. He isn't actually a miss-first. Hence the name. He fits in this school just fine.
11:05 I noticed. I decided to walk in and sit down even though my he a was scream in at me not to.
I took a seat across the room from Niall. I had no choice really all the seats were taken but I'm happy this one was open.
He was a whole other person. Almost.
He mostly stared at the ground and played with his hands. Fixing his shirt and pants. But always cracking a joke when the opportunity came up but he didn't laugh like he always does.
Odd.
Maybe he is a misfit amongst the misfits.
"Welcome everyone. Some of you are familiar faces" the instructor said looking at everyone "and new faces" he said just looking at me. But I was looking at Niall.
"All of you are here for similar reasons. Whether it be extreme intelligence or amazing skills or originality. A few of you are here just because you are different. But all of you are the same because you are different. I know that some of you don't really need to be here or don't want to. But overall we are all just stars in the universe and just want someone to see us and make a wish." He said and he went on for. while but I barely paid attention after that. He seems to be beyond uncomfortable with this. Maybe because some of us carry blades and fire instead of lipstick and bubblegum.
"Niall you wanna share first" he said and Niall nodded his head
"for those who don't know, my name is Niall Horan," everyone knows idiot "I am 17" duh "and I am here for cutting" excuse me what "I have been cutting every fay since I turned 14. Nothing and no one stops me." Am I hearing you correctly "and I think that words we say should matter"
"They never matter" I actually said out loud
Shit.
"Do you have something to add Madison?" The lead of the group, Eric, said with his eye brows raised at me
"Well..... we can say whatever we want. But unless someone choses to hear them they don't matter. They never do because no one chooses to hear the words that aren't their own." I said just looking at Niall
Eric went on about my answer before asking all of the cutters to show their recent cuts: Abby, Joseph, Lani, and Niall were the only ones that showed some cuts.
Niall was covered all across his arms in bright pink marks and some dark red ones. I just stared because this was happening.
Niall Horan was afraid
Niall Horan was a cutter.
Niall Horan was a misfit.
{A/N}: so there was part 1. Tell me if you like this at all and I will write a part two. I have lots of ideas for this one.
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