Taking A Final Stand

Chantal LeBlanc, a 14 year-old from Toulouse, France, has been bullied all of her life. She's finally had enough. She's changed schools, MJCs (a program for French students who are interested in extracurricular), and towns, just to get away, but it's no use. She's decided to move to London, England, where her pen pal, Niall Horan, lives. Niall's heard about her amazing musical talents, but now, he gets to see it for himself, as she has to audition, in order to enroll in a performing arts school; the exact same performing arts school that Niall attends. Will she rise above and beyond the obstacles that lay ahead? Or will she fall so hard, she can't see the light , at the end of the tunnel?


19. Nando's

We make it to Nando's, order our food, and sit down. As the food comes, I notice I'm glaring at my wrists. Niall notices, too. 

"Chantal, you okay?" He asks. I shake my head.

"Can I talk to you alone, Niall?"

"Sure," he replies, and we walk outside. "So, what was going on, at school today?"

"I was... being bullied." I replied, tears flowing down my face. "I did this, because of it." I lift up both sleeves on my sweatshirt, and show him my wrists. He starts to cry.

"Chantal, why?" He asks.

"They were telling me, because I recited my favorite poem, to go... kill myself. They were making fun of me for liking the poem, for the way I talk, and just for being myself. I couldn't stop myself." I look down, as the tears flow down my face faster than a waterfall. "I'm sorry, Niall."

"Who was in your class with you?" he asks.


"Did he do anything to stop them?" I shake my head.

"He just laughed along with them." He wraps his arms around me.

"Chantal, if I knew this, when you bumped into me, I would've told Liam, and your entire Theatre class off. That shouldn't happen to anyone. Especially you." I cry into his chest. He knows there's going to be mascara on his white polo, but he doesn't care. He has plenty more. Niall dries my eyes, as the rest of the boys come outside. I hide my wrists.

"Guys, we're leaving, now." Harry replies, and a wave of fans come toward us. Liam gets pushed into Louis, who got pushed into Niall, who ran into Zayn, who bumped into Harry, who accidentally shoved me off the sidewalk. I fall right onto a broken bottle, landing straight on my arm. I scream louder than an opera singer on fortissimo.

"Oh my God! Chantal, I am so sorry!" Niall darts over to my side. My arm is covered in blood, and you can see bone. He looks at my severely injured arm, and turns to Harry, about ready to punch him out.

"We need to get her to the hospital. Now. Her arm is seriously injured." Tears run down my face, as he carries me to the Jeep. As everyone piles in, everything goes pitch black.

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