5 Seconds Of Summer and One Direction Imagines

#96

He Notices You Aren't Acting Yourself

Age 13

You sighed and set down your backpack at the door, school was terrible, as usual, but you'd put on a fake smile and go again tomorrow, then it would be the weekend, and you'd get a break, wait, no you wouldn't you had to spend the weekend at your older brothers, lovely. His constant teasing might just have you have a break down, but maybe he could help you? Ha, who were you kidding, he wouldn't help you.

Cleaning the knife you had used to chop your apple slices, you slid it back into the dish drainer, and grabbed a butter knife to dish out some peanut butter, after doing that, you cleaned off your knife and slid it into the dish drainer as well.

Dragging the heavy backpack to your living room, you set down the small platter, and turned on the tv to supernatural reruns, and began doing the multi-step equations homework.

Despite the constant torture from your peers, you were actually good in school, got good grades, didn't talk a lot, but still everyone hated you. The worst part? You didn't even know why, it could be maybe because your brother was famous, maybe you were just unlikable, maybe you were to ugly to be befriended, to fat, either way they hated you, so it didn't really matter why, because no matter what you did, they would still hate you at the end of the day.

After showering and putting on pajamas, you sit up on your phone a little bit, feeling a small buzz you slide your phone, unlocking it, and tapping the messages icon.

"Hey little sister, you ready to see me this weekend? Missed you. x" the text read, you smiled slightly, and replied that you were ready to see him and that you had missed him too, before plugging your phone into the charger and closing your eyes.

Your ringtone blared Fancy by Iggy Azalea waking you up, knowing you had to get ready for school.

After straitening your already pretty strait hair, you apply makeup, and grab your backpack, slip on your glasses, and walk out the door.

"Oh, hey guys look, it's the fat ass!" A guy, most likely the captain of the football team, says, pointing at you.

You duck your head and dart toward your locker, trying desperately to get to first class, it was sometimes a lot lighter of teasing and name calling, if there is a teacher around, sometimes.

You shut your locker quietly, and shuffle to homeroom, not unnoticed though.

"Look at her, she's pathetic." Lindsey, a cheerleader whispers to another popular girl.

"I know, why won't she just kill herself, save herself and others!" They both laugh, you sigh, and try and hide behind your hair more than you already are.

You sigh and set down your stuff and begin working on some last minute math for the 30 minute class.

The bell rings and you jolt up, rushing to put the papers back in their proper file folders, slipping your pencil into its pouch and rushing to your first period Algebra 1 class.

Feeling your body lunge forward, you hit the ground hard, your nose dripping blood. 'Shit.' You mumble to yourself, collecting your paper and tilting your head back trying to get to the office.

"Ms.Gilliam, my nose, it's bleeding." You say quickly, she guides you to the nurses office and helps you get cleaned up.

"Do you want to go home, sweetie?" She asks, rubbing my back.

"Ah, no I'll be fine, I have Algebra 1, can you write me a note, so he doesn't get mad at me, please?" You ask politely. She nods and grabs a sticky note.