I'm your average girl, moody teenager, everyone knows me. Except they think I'm a murderer. It's not true, of course, but does that matter? Not to them; they hate me, but I survive. But it isn't until a certain band member- with the name of Niall James Horan- comes to town that my world really spins. What will happen to me? That's for me to know, and me to tell. See you around.


13. Hemophobia

I held my forehead in pain, feeling the warm and stickiness off my own blood. I scrambled to get away, only to feel a hand wrap around my neck, lifting me off of the ground. I gagged as I tried to breathe whilst my windpipe was being crushed in his grasp.

"This was just how I planned it," He growled. "The poor popular girl who hated herself just enough to jump off of the Wendall bridge. How predictable. No one will know the real story, how she barely had enough energy to fight her death. They believe we love each other, I'm too good of an actor for them not to  believe me, and why wouldn't they? You know they won't question me once, it's not like any one cares about you anyway. You know it," He tightened his grip on my neck, as I placed my hands on his hands, clawing to get them away from my neck.. My hands that had my blood. He screamed as he dropped me, backing away. I coughed and coughed, very confused. Until I remembered. He has Hemophobia, a fear of blood. I had hope, beautiful hope.

"If you want to kill someone, kill them, don't just stand there talking about it!" I managed to shriek, as I ran out of the room, but he grabbed my ankle tearing me down to the floor. 

"It's no use! You won't get away, ever!"


I shot straight up in bed, clear tears streaming down my face. I wiped them away quickly, as I tried to slow my breathing. I didn't like crying, it made you weak, and that is one thing I am not. The sun had already come up, so I got out of bed, and went into the bathroom to splash water on my face. I heard the door open, and rolled my eyes. My mother can stop trying, she should know I won't speak. I walked out of the bathroom to grab my phone, but stopped in my tracks as I heard the voice.

"Hey, babe. Looks like your mom wants you to speak real bad." He said smoothly. I turned to face him, standing next to the door.

"I-I thought you w-were in Juvy." I stuttered.

"Your mom took the charges off of me. Amazing what a woman does when being ignored." He smirked, coming closer to me.

"You stay away from me," I tried, backing two steps away every time he took one.

"No. I'm going to finish what I started two years ago." I ran out of room to back up, so I ran into the bathroom, slamming and locking it. He pounded on the door, and I wanted to scream in terror, but refused. All he ever wanted me to do was scream. Instead, I racked my brain and the bathroom- for a way to stop him. I felt so stupid, I knew there was a way, that I'd done it before, but I couldn't figure it out for the life of me. And this really was about my life. I thought back, to those first days. I saw blood going down the drain of my shower, something I had done to myself. I remembered how well that school day went, despite my mood. I remembered him dragging me into his house. I remembered.

I ran to the sink, even though I didn't want to stop being a human barrier. I frantically looked around the sink, in the shower, and under the sink. I took all of the cleaning supplies and tooth supplies out, practically trashing the whole bathroom. I couldn't find it, I just wanted to get this over with! I groaned as I took the last cleaning bottle out of the cabinet. I was done. He was going to knock down the door and he was going to kill me. I sat against the wall, legs in front of me. So this is what it felt like before you would die. A complete sense of hopelessness, fear, and regret. I closed my eyes as I lied my head back against the wall. I let a good minute pass before opening my eyes. I gasped as I looked up- the medicine cabinet! The banging was getting louder, and so was the creaking from the hinges on the door. I got up, a new hope inside of me. I grabbed the mirror part, and yanked it open, eyes scouring the shelves. There! I grabbed the old, rusted razor and took one of the least rusted blades out. My consciousness was screaming at me, making me even more confused because it was both telling me to do it, and to stop this madness. But I couldn't, this time I didn't have a choice. This time, It was either I did this, or I was killed. I had no choice. I couldn't cut my hand, though, it would bring back these memories and I didn't want that, at all. So, I did what I did last time, when I had a choice. I slightly pulled down my jeans and my undies on my right hipbone, to reveal a white scar. I was not proud of that day, but I could remember it perfectly- I had lost all hope, every part of my life, and I gave up on trying to hide my sadness. I shook my head, I couldn't remember this right now, I didn't have time. I worked up all of my courage, and without a second thought, I dragged the metal across the flesh right above my previous scar. The pain masked my fear, because I knew I would get out of here, but the blood that came after wrecked my self appreciation.

I then wiped both of my hands against the wound, getting as much blood possible. Then, after my hands were disgustingly filled with blood, I pushed my jeans and undies against the sore spot and hoped it would stop the blood well enough. I caught my breathing back to normal. I put my hands up to where his face would be, and got ready. Breathe, just breathe. That's all that went through my head as I reached with one hand to the doorknob. I was terrified this wouldn't work, but I couldn't stop now. I grabbed the lock and un-did it, putting my hand with my other one up above my head. He burst through the door, only to get a face full of blood when he came in contact with my hands. He took a startled step back, and looked at my hands. He then put a hand up to touch his face, and his expression changed to match mine. Fear. Although, he did surprise me. I thought he would scream, not faint like he did. Less than thirty seconds since  I opened the door, and he's out cold.

I smiled at my work and ran out. Except I couldn't leave without leaving something behind. Grinning, I walked to the wall straight ahead from my door. I used the blood on my hands to write out just one word. 'Bitch'. You have to admit, she deserved it. I ran to the window and jumped out and onto the tree, perfectly placed out side of my window. I used it to climb down and sprinted to my room, not caring who saw. Five minutes later I was outside of the closed school, and outside of my room. I clambered in, feeling safer in my little home. I sighed as I walked over to my bed, only to nearly yell in terror. A boy was lying on my bed.


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