What Makes you Beautiful

When Charlotte, or Charlie, starts to get bullied for no reason, she runs away to Ireland. She was being called fat and ugly, being told that nobody wants to be seen with her. When she arrives at Ireland, she runs into the one and only, Niall Horan. Well, sort of. When Niall and the boys find out what happened, they spend the rest of their break trying to convince her how beautiful she is. NO ROMANCE IN THIS STORY


3. Trouble

I woke up to the sweet sound of a certain British/Irish boy band known as One Direction. I get up and do the usual morning thing and head off to school.

When I got there, I parked my bike (hey it's better for the environment) in the rack and locked it up. When I got everything settled, I started walking up the steps of the school.

When I had walked into the building, it got quiet. Like, few people talking here and there.

And that's when I heard the whispering.

"…ate two whole pizzas…"

"…claimed it was a dare… don't believe her."

"…such a fatass." By the way, this got to me the most.

And the last one I heard before I rushed out of the building was, "I knew she wouldn't back down from the dare so that's why I did it. I've always hated her, but I felt pity that she was alone. So I called the guys to walk passed the place…" I didn't want to listen to the rest.

I left my bike there and ran the whole way home. I guess the tears blocked my vision because I took a wrong turn and ended up in the forest. I slowed to a walk, still blubbering like a baby. To this day, I still don't know why that backstabber did that to me. I had always been there for her on the bad days. And all of it was a charade? I didn't want to believe it; I wanted to believe this was all a bad dream from all the pizza I ate. But I knew it was realty. And I didn't like it.



I think it was about seven at night. I was still in the woods. I found a perfect place to think.

Apparently, there was a waterfall somewhere in there. So, being an adventurer, I had followed the sound of falling water and went for a swim near it. Hey, it was warm enough.

I had dove underwater and swam behind the wall of water. When I came back up, I saw a cave big enough for me to move around and stand up. So I'd climbed into it. The cave was homey and warm, despite the waterfall.

I went to the back of the cave and lied down. Hmm, nice and warm, I'd thought. Soon enough, I had fallen asleep.




I woke up and crawled to the front and poked my head out. I looked to the side and saw what looked to be a path on the side. I took that and looked up into the sky. It looked about midnight, so I decided to get home.



At home, I took a quick shower and went to bed. I cried myself to sleep, remembering what happened at school.

As soon as I fell asleep (or at least that's how it felt), the alarm went off, signaling me to get off my lazy butt and get ready for school.


I didn't want to go, but I skipped the whole day yesterday.

I did my thing a headed off, having to walk because I left my bike there. Hopefully, it's still there, I thought.

I made it there with ten minutes to spare. I went over to the bike racks only to stop in my tracks. The lock was broken and my bike was gone. Great. Just my freaking luck. I groaned and made my way to my locker.

When I got there, I saw that there was something written on it with dripping black paint. I stepped closer, afraid to see what was written on it.


I walked backwards until I hit the wall and slid down, a hand over my mouth to catch the sob that was about to erupt.

Slowly, I got up and opened my locker. Luckily, I had always kept paper towels in there. I got a couple and the books I needed and closed the door. I started to wipe the paint off. I had gotten most of it off when the warning bell rang. I hurried to throw away the towels and got to class.

I made it as soon as the bell rang. The teacher wasn't there yet.

Everybody was staring at me with such mockery I had felt queasy. I went to sit in the very back. Eyes had followed me. I put my head down. I had felt something hit my hair. I reluctantly looked up and saw a waddled up piece of paper.

The teacher walked in.

"Okay, everyone. Quiet down please. Please turn to page 562..."

I zoned out and stared out the window on the other side if the class. Then some guy (I forgot his name; it's been so long) turned to look at me and snapped me out of my daydreaming.

"What are you looking at?" he mouthed. I shook my head and looked the other way.

"Charlie?" I heard. My head snapped up in attention. The teacher was staring at me with a stern look. The class started to giggle.

"Yes, ma'am?" I say.

"The answer, Ms. Karington?"

"Um," I'd looked to the board. I think it was the square root of 576. I answered as quick as I could've with, "24?" She'd looked impressed.

"Well, I'm glad you were paying attention. Please, at least look at the board, though." And with that, she walked away from my desk. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

I heard some whispers floating around the room, like little ghosts trying to find the light. Instinctively, I had looked around the room and saw that some of the kids were staring at me smirks. I heard someone quietly call out, "Hypocrite." Laughter started. The teacher spins around with a look so stern, she shut everyone up; I just had to laugh. Quietly, of course.





So, school kinda went on like that for for a few weeks. I got bullied physically as well as vocally. And to think: it was all for eating two pizzas. Or at the time I thought that's what it was about. Until probably the third week, I overheard a conversation from a few girls talking (about me, of course), telling each other about how I had spread rumors about their breast implants. I never spread rumors in my life. Oh, and just to be clear, they're not rumors. And the person telling them that was telling them was none other than my ex-friend.

Those girls are the worst out of everyone that was giving me a hard time.

Later that week, I saw her talking to a group of JV jocks. Apparently, she was telling them that I was talking about them, saying that they will never be as good as the Varsity team. So they started talking all sorts of (untrue) trash about me.

So this is the cliché part about all of this. I couldn't take it anymore after the fourth week. I was covered in bruises and cuts, my head filled with what one of my 'now-family' member's called 'false judgments'.

So, because of everyone, I had packed my bags, got everything I could carry, and left. It was until I got to the airport that I realized I only had enough money for a one-way ticket to Washington State. I lived in Texas. I had decided to take that plane and then stow away on a boat and let that take me wherever it went, get a job there, and start a new life. So I had went up to the lady and got he ticket and went to wait. I didn't have to wait that long and soon, I was on the plane to Washington State.

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