Hated (A 1D fanfic)

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  • Rating:
  • Published: 1 May 2013
  • Updated: 19 Feb 2014
  • Status: Complete
Sawyer hates the thought of school simply because they are there.
Yep, the thought of them gives her chills.
Who am I talking about?
The one and only Louis Tomlinson and his girlfriend Stacey Porter.

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1. School: a living hell

Sawyer Prescott: The most hated student at Roosevelt High.

*Sawyer's point of view*

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

I lean over and slam my hand down on my alarm clock, and let out a deep sigh.

I throw on some clothes: a vintage Beatles muscle shirt, blue jean cut offs, and a pair of bright red converse shoes. I let my hair stay in its natural beach waves. 

I look in the mirror, and see a broken girl staring back. Her face is emotionless, almost like she is done with the world. Her once green eyes stare back, gray and lifeless, and her fiery red hair is the only thing that shows any confidence left in her. Her smile is no longer there, leaving only a thin line of lips, shut tight, not letting out all the words she wishes she could say.

But once upon a time, that girl was as happy as she could be. Her green eyes sparkled when she smiled, and her hair was just like her personality bright and in your face. Everybody adored her, and she never had anything short of a smile on her face.

Damn, I don't want to leave. I don't want to have to face another single day of torment.

You know, none of this would be going on if he had never come here.

It all started the day Louis Tomlinson came into my life. God, he is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.

I slide down the stairs on the railing, and grab my stars and stripes backpack. I look up, and see Clay sitting at the table.

I grimace. Why hasn't he left to go get Louis?

"Need a ride?" He asks, even though we both know that will never happen. Being seen with me will destroy his 'popular' image.

"Not from you." I say as I grab my car keys and walk out the door. I throw my backpack into the back seat of my white jeep, and climb into the driver's side.

I light a cigarette, and plug my iPhone into my stereo. I look around, and make sure Lydia doesn't see me smoking. If she did, I would be dead.

Which may actually be an improvement on my pitiful life.

Once I get to school, I pull into my usual parking spot, and walk over behind the school with my lighter and a pack of Marlboro lights. I sink down against the building, and finish off another one.

Chris Hilton comes back and stands near me, but doesn't acknowledge me.

But that is expected, I guess he is in the 'popular' crowd.

I check my phone, 7:49. I drop my cigarette butt on the ground, and put it out with my shoe.

I walk back over to my car, and grab my bag, while locking my car in one swift motion. I shove my lighter, phone, and pack into my bag. I see Clay's truck pulling into the parking lot, so I high tail it to my locker. Maybe if I hurry, Louis won't see me, there for he won't have a chance to be a dick to me until homeroom.

I walk down the main hall, and all eyes are on me. I hear them whisper shit like, "She is so ugly." "Sawyer is such a loser." and, my personal favorite, "Oh, stupid Sawyer. When will she realize that her life is pointless, and just pull the trigger?"

I ignore it. Those words could probably drive a grown man to tears, but none of it fazes me. I've just gotten used to it.

I lean into my locker to grab my binder to put it in my backpack, when Stacey comes over and shoves my bag out of my hands, causing everything to fall out. My homework, notebook, folder, and World Studies textbook scatter, along with my phone, wallet, lighter, and pack of Marlboro lights. My pencils cover the ground, and everybody points and laughs.

"Oops! Didn't see you standing there, Sawyer. Its almost like you are invisible!" Stacey says with a giggle, then she walks away to her locker without looking back.

I let out a deep sigh, and begin to repack my bag. I sit cross-legged on the floor, ignoring the stares. But then I hear it, "Oh, poor Sawyer! She seems to have dropped her bag. Me, being the good person I am, must go help her!"

I would know that voice anywhere.

It's the voice that haunts my nightmares.

Louis Tomlinson.

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