Chapter 11- POV Harry: Panic Sets In

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{Notice how although this is a new chapter, the perspective is the same.}

I trudge into school with my hood up and my head down, filled to the brim with dread. I wish Lou was with me, but our relationship has to be kept in the dark for a while longer- at least until he decides to come out.

Upon entering my first class, a snarl of disgust is immediately directed my way. I get a few more dirty looks, but not nearly as many as I thought I would. I sigh and a wave of self-pity sets in. I sit down at my desk and text Louis, Wish you were here.

I immediately get a reply back from him. You're so cheesy and I love it. Can I come over after school today?

Sure. I reply, then look up. Someone has just sat down next to me. He has blonde hair that has been spiked up with gel but still looks very natural. He's wearing a pair of jeans and the school uniform, a combination most of the boys in our grade sport each day. He looks a little nerdy to begin with, which is exemplified because of the thick-framed black glasses resting on his nose.

"Hi." He greets me with a smile. "I'm Niall. You're Harry, right?" I nod suspiciously. 

Why is he being so nice to me? We end up working on a project in class together, and he's a very nice lad. We chat about school, movies, music- nothing interesting. Turns out he was just being friendly. We trade phone numbers and part ways after class ends. I feel proud. I have made another friend. Louis must be helping my self confidence.

The rest of the school day goes by as smoothly as I could have hoped. I have gotten a few threats, called a few nasty names, received a bunch of disgusted faces thrown my way, and I've gotten stared at. A lot.

At the end of history, the last class of the day, I excuse myself to use the bathroom. After opening the heavy wood door, I lean against the far wall and take a deep breath. Today has sucked, but at least I get to see Louis after this, so it makes it all worth it.

The bathroom door opens and I look up. It's Zayn. Zayn is the biggest bully at this school, and everyone knows it, though he never seems to get caught. He is quite a bit taller and buffer than me, not to mention three years older, which makes him quite intimidating. His brow is furrowed and he is wearing a frown, as usual. He approaches me and corners me against the wall. Every time I try to escape, he shoves me back against it.

"What do you want?" I demand, trying my best to look tough. 

"People like you go to hell." He says solemnly. "You're a freak and you deserve everything I am about to do to you." He leaves a moment of suspense, then swings a fist towards my face. Pain shoots up my nose. I bring a hand up to touch my face and realize I'm bleeding.

He throws another fist, this time at my stomach. I groan in misery. After he hits me a few more agonizing times in the stomach, I become furious. He is beating me up solely because I like boys- where are the morals in that? 

Barely thinking, I swing my foot up in between his legs, and he doubles over in pain. Taking advantage of the fact that he is momentarily on the floor, I sprint out of the bathroom. I can tell he is close behind me by the sound of clomping footsteps following my route.

I see a janitor's closet open and dive inside, slamming the door shut and locking it from the inside. I sink down against the wall.

A sigh of relief washes over me before I realize what just happened. My nose is throbbing, my stomach is even worse, and now I am hiding from Zayn, alone, in a janitor's closet. Wow, my life is sad. 

My heartbeat speeds up. I try to take deep breaths but nothing helps. 

My mind begins to play out worse-case scenarios and I find myself murmuring the same thing my mind is repeating over and over again, "I'm a freak, I'm a freak, I'm a freak, I'm a freak..." 

I am terrified, even though I am no longer in harm's way. I look down and notice my hands are shaking. No, not just my hands. My whole body is trembling wildly. I want to stop shaking so bad but I can't stop it.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, it does. Everything hurts and my breathing speeds up more than I ever thought possible. I can see the dim light in the closet sparkle through my tears, so I squeeze my eyes shut as if that will stop my pain. It doesn't. I am gasping for air, yet I can't seem to get any. Beads of sweat slide down my forehead. My body is exhausted, yet I keep uncontrollably trembling. 

I just want to be numb. I want my heart to stop hurting so much because Louis makes me happy but somehow also makes my heart ache until it feels like it can't ache any more, but then it does. I want to feel nothing because right now I am feeling everything, and I don't like it one bit.

My thoughts are all over the place and I am overcome by fear, and then I find myself sobbing so hard I am hiccuping and gagging. I want it all to end. It's too much.

With all the strength I can muster, I pull my phone out from my pocket and call Louis. It's really difficult, seeing as how shaky my hands are and how unable to focus I am, but I eventually manage to do it, though it takes nearly five minutes and many tries. The call goes straight to voicemail. I try again. After five rings, he finally picks up. 

"Harry?"

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