*Niall’s POV*
*Same Day*

“First period is going to start in like ten minutes. We should get going.” I pointed out.

“What about Neal and Amanda?” Liam questioned.

“They’ll recover.” Zayn insisted.

“Or maybe Neal will pull a Destiny and just leave everyone, I mean they grew up together. It makes sense.” Harry says, through gritted teeth glaring at Josh, as Bella is off talking to some girl in her Math class, so she didn’t hear anything.

“Don’t you dare, Harry. Don’t put us in the same category as Destiny.” Josh demands, ready to pounce at Harry.

“Why not? You all seem to have grown up with the same twisted minds.” Harry shot at him.

“Harry I’m warning you.” Josh spat him, trying to attack him, but Zayn held him down.

“Don’t Harry. They aren’t the same.” Zayn insisted.

“I swear to you, White. If Neal and Amanda don’t work things out, you, him, Antwon and Allen are out of my life.” Harry stated, through narrowed eyes and clenched jaws.

“Harry, stop. Don’t be like this. They didn’t do anything.” I stepped in.

“I will not. This is so fucking annoying. It was better before Destiny came by.” Harry spat, pushing past Josh, who was giving him a death glare.

Josh was ready to go after Harry, and give him a piece of his mind. “Josh, let it go. He’ll recover.” Zayn says, gripping onto Josh’s arm.

“Don’t touch me. I only came here, because of Destiny, anyway.” Josh demanded, snatching his arm away from Zayn’s grip as he pushed past us to go to class.

“I’ll try to talk to him. I have an English class with him now.” Ally quietly says, running after Josh, after giving Liam a kiss on the cheek.

“Urgh.” I sighed, running both my hands through my hair.

“We gotta get going. We’ll see you guys at lunch.” Zayn says, taking Mabel’s hand.

“That is if we survive until then.” Liam laughed lightly.

“Yeah.” Zayn smiled, fist pumping Liam before he and Mabel leave for their Computer Programming class, which was on the other side of the school.

“You should go too, Niall. Your class is like three floors up.” Louis insisted.

“Ah. Whatever, it’s just Photography. I’ll walk you two, to class.” I shrugged, as Liam, Louis and I started for their Chemistry class.

“What a gentleman.” Liam laughed.

“Oh, I forgot to ask. What happened to your left eye, Niall?” Louis questioned me.

“What?” I asked, a little startled, touching my left eye gentle. I winced at the pain. “Oh, this. Nothing, I was so tired last night I ended up crashing into a damn pole.”

“Oh jeez,” Liam lightly laughed.

Walking into class, five minutes late, everyone stared at me like I just killed someone. Everyone looked up, except Destiny, who was slouched in her seat on the other end of the classroom.

“Horan, you’re late.” Mr Boston pointed out.

“Yeah. Sorry, I got lost.” I quickly muttered, taking my seat at the back of the room.

“You’d think four years is enough to learn your way around the school.” Mr Boston says, through narrowed eyes.

“Yeah.” I nodded, not really caring to hear his speech.

“This is the fifth time in a row, Horan. You know what that means.”

“What,” I ask, knowing exactly what.

“I gotta call your parents.”

“Right.”

“So, let’s get on with the lesson. Yeah?” Mr Boston started, taking his gaze off me.

He was one of those teachers the kids could never get the better off. Whatever witty retort they had, he had one better. He took their disobedience and turned into an advantage for himself, but not through belittling them or stamping authority. He checked their behaviour with a style of humour they could relate to, aspire to even. When he taught, it was with the passion of a life long teacher, someone who lived to inspire a love of learning in the next generation. He was actually one of my favourite teachers, except on the days I have one those horrible encounters with Destiny or something screwed up happens.

I rested my head in my hands. Closing my eyes, I replied the images from last night.

*Last Night*

I walked through the front door to find my parents yelling and screaming at each other again.

Their voices rose above the sacred silence. A glance, touch, and one small comment stirred a hurricane of harsh and horsed insults. Their Pandora boxes opened, sending each word full speed ahead to shatter their souls into a million pieces. Dad’s face brightened, just a tone lighter than Mum’s crimson colour. A usual pattern.

“Why don’t you get you fat-ass up and find a job, Bobby! Damn you’re going to all of us starve to death!” Mum screamed.

“Why don’t you shut up? You don’t even do anything but complain!” Dad snapped back.

“Me? I don’t do anything! Have you lost your god damn mind! I’m the only one who does do something! I’m the only source of income in this fucking family!” Mum demanded angrily.

Their heated quarrel continues. It was definitely a war of words and who can hurt the other one worse. Both of them at each other throats like savage, hungry dogs fighting over dominance.

“Stop drinking so much and get on your feet damn it!” Mum screamed, knocking the bottle from Dad’s hand and on to the floor.

“You bitch!” Dad shouted loudly, immediately standing up from his seat. He threw his hand across Mum’s face. The slap was as loud as a clap and stung her face. It had been an open-handed smack, and it had left a red welt behind. Just below her eye was a small cut where the ring had caught her. She staggered backwards, clutching her face, eyes watering.

“Mum!” I cried out, running to her side. Dad was going in for another contact with his fist and Mum, just as I shoved him out of the way, “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” In the end, his hand cracks across my face, snapping it back with the force of his blow and causing my head to reel sickeningly as it slams into the wall behind me. With a spit at my feet, he growled something inaudible and walked out the door.

Letting him leave, ‘cause he probably just need some time to cool down, I went to help up Mum. “Don’t touch me. This is all your fault. We were supposed to only have one child. Only one. Only Greg. You were a mistake. On top of that, you can’t even help. You are no good to this family, just a waste of space.” With that Mum shoved me aside and went to her room.

Angrily I rushed upstairs, getting into my bedroom, I slammed the door harder than strictly necessary. The sound it made seemed satisfying, it’s like it was telling the world to go to hell on my behalf.

Money. It’s a manifestation of power. Power. A sign of fear. As long as we have money, we’ll never be free of fear. And fear is what is going to destroy our planet.

Money’s been tight lately after Dad lost his job. Mom’s been trying to pick up the slack. Greg’s been real busy with University and trying to keep up his low paying job to pay for his tuition. While, I failed at being a good student, a good community member, a good friend and a good son. I couldn’t find a job anywhere. My grades are slacking. My friends are going insane. And my parents can’t stand the sight of me anymore.

Tears started to rush down, I punch the wall with angry as I let out a loud sigh and ran my hands through my hair. Leaning against the foot of the wall, I let myself cry, knowing that no one was watching.

My left eye began to burn with pain, I walked over to my mirror to examine it more carefully. It had started to slightly bruise. Finding some ornament in the washroom cupboard, I gently applied it and went to check on my mother. She was fast asleep on her bed. Seeing that it was a little chilly, I grabbed her blanket and gently placed it on top of her, before closing the curtains, turning off the light, and closing the door before I retreated to my room, to try and make a dent in my homework.

*Current Time*

“Niall … Niall … Niall!” a voice called to me repeatedly.

“What?” I called out, startled, “Oh. Sorry. What did you say?”

“Can you come here, and pick up a permission form for the trip we will be going on next week?” Mr Boston said, probably for the hundredth time, seeing that I had zoned off again.

“Oh. I’m not going. It’s okay.” I shook my head. I couldn’t. I had to give up special privileges, like trips and lunch, to survive.

“Are you sure> It’s mandatory, for school. If there is issue, we can-“

“I said, I’m not going. That’s it.” I demanded, cutting him off. I wasn’t about to take special help from anyone, especially my teachers.

Looking away from Mr Boston, I got a glimpse of Destiny, who was looking at me strangely. Brushing it off, I rested my head on my desk and tuned into the rest of Mr Boston’s lesson.

Notes

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