Dear Diary,
Numb. I swear, I am numb. I can't feel anymore. Most people say they can't feel emotionally. I can't feel physically. The blood just flows as I watch them to beat me. Sometimes I wonder if they ever thought what it'd be like to be me. Beaten and broken. Just dead. Maybe it's just better if I'm dead. I won't feel anymore. People can find out what happened through this. How horrible people really are.
-Dakota

After several hours of reading, my alarm clock goes off. Dammit. I must've stayed up all night reading this. This girl has been through alot. And from what I've learned, this is not the first of her entries. I'm kind of scared of what might've happened. If I'm correct, she's seventeen, ran away at age fifteen, abused and raped by both her parents and current boss, bullied, and is from Wolverhampton. I haven't asked Liam if he knew her, but I will.

I throw off my covers and set the book down. After a quick shower, I'll head back to the cafe and find the girl. I know I have no right to read her diary, but ever since Lou started reading it, it's hard to put down. This girl deserves some attention. Who can live like this? I would've been dead a long time ago if that was my life.

After a shower, I put on my clothes and head to the main room. Niall lays on the couch with some crisps in his hand. I wake up a long time after the guys do so it's almost eleven. Last time I went there, it was around twelve so I should get going. I grab my jacket and beanie off the table and slide them on. "I'm gonna go, if anyone asks, I'm giving the journal back," I tell Niall. He responds with a nod, not wanting to talk.

I make sure to get my key card before leaving. Hopefully, she's there. I really want to talk to her. She's been abused by parents and beaten by employment. I'm no cop, but I'm pretty sure you should tell the police. People who say they can handle it, can't. Most kids believe they can, but end up committing suicide. I'm surprised she hasn't.

Down the block, I can see a taxi pull up next to the cafe and a girl steps out. Black curls, fair skin. Wait. That's her! She kindly pays the man and walks inside. Not a moment after, I follow her inside where she stands at the counter. Should I go up to her now or when she sits down? I don't want to disturb her.

Wait. What am I saying? I'm Harry Styles. Since when was I nervous about talking to a girl? Girls are nervous to talk to me! Not the other way around. With a boost of confidence, I walk over to the girl's table and tap her shoulder. She looks up and takes my breath away. She's beautiful. Why would anyone want to hurt her? She looks perfect.

Her lips move, but I don't hear anything. I'm still taken back by her looks. "Huh. Oh uh, can you repeat that?"

She sighs and repeats herself, "Are you okay? You spaced out for a little bit."

"Oh, I'm fine," I tell her. She continues to look at me waiting. "Oh yeah. Are you Dakota Campbell?" I ask and put a hand over the book. She nods and I take out her journal. "I believe this belongs to you," I give it to her.

She smiles wildly and snatches it out of my hand. "Thank you so much. I was worried about this." She slides it back in her bag and looks up at me. "I know this is a stupid question, but did you read it?" What do I tell her? I can't just say I read it. She'll hate me. Due to my hesitation, she groans. "Listen. I understand your sympathy, but you don't need to help me. Okay? Understood? I've gone years without sympathy. I'm fine now just as I was years ago."

"But-"

"No buts," She says. "I'm fine alright. I'm thankful that you gave me back my journal, but you had no permission to read it. Just leave me alone alright. I don't need any attention and talking to Harry Styles isn't helping."

"Please, just-"

"Just nothing alright," She says. "I appreciate your-"

"Harry." I turn around and mentally face palm myself. The rest of the boys come walking in smiling widely. I am an idiot thinking they'd let me do something myself. Niall offers a small smile as they take seats. "Who's this lovely lady?" Louis asks.

Dakota looks at me with an annoyed look. "I'll leave you guys be," She says and stands up. "I told you, Harry. Just leave me alone. Alright?" She takes her bag and walks out the door. So much for being her savior. I want to help her, but she doesn't want any. She clearly wants to be left alone. Well, let me tell you, when I set my sights on things, I don't give up. I'm helping her whether she wants to or not.

"What's wrong?" Zayn asks. Liam just stares at her previous seat as if she is still there. "Liam. What's up?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing. It just feels like I've seen her before. Probably not though."

"What's her name?" Niall asks.

"Dakota Campbell," I say and Liam furrows his eyebrows. "What's wrong, Liam?" He shakes his head. "Anyways, you guys scared her off. I really want help her. So thank you for ruining my chances."

Lou sighs and rest his elbows on the table, "Why do you want to help her if she clearly doesn't want it? What makes her different from everyone else?"

I shrug. "She's... special. She has an amazing way with words, she's beautiful, and deserves to be heard. I just want to help her."

"Some people just don't want to be helped," Liam says. "It's a fact not many want to accept, but it's true. Dakota is one of the people who don't want to be helped. You can't force her to want help. Maybe it better if you left it-"

"Liam, she's been abused, beaten, raped, and ran away. How can you just stand by and watch it?" I question. It's so stupid that people just watch people get hurt for nothing and don't do anything to stop. No one told them, the police... A neighbor would've been helpful. I want to help and Liam's not stopping me. "Why do you want me to stand by and let this happen? I care about her."

He sighs and looks down at his twiddling fingers. "Because that's what I did," He looks up at me and shrugs. "She went to my school and was my neighbor. It really scared me when I heard crashes from her house and saw her bloody body outside of school. Being only a kid, I didn't know what to do."

So Liam did know her. And he just stood by! What the hell? I would've been calling the police or telling my mum if I heard noises from the neighbor's house. "How long ago did it start?"

"She's two years younger and I saw it when I was about twelve so when she was ten," He says and the guys gasp slightly. "And since I'm nineteen and my birthday is in August and hers is after, it's been going on for almost eight years."

"How do you know her birthday?" I ask. It's kind of weird how he knows it since he didn't seem to be her friend.

"I one of the very rare people who'd be nice to her time to time," He says. Well, that makes sense. "It's the fifth of September nineteen ninety-five."

Eight years. She's been abused for eight years. How is she still alive? Why is she still going? Why hasn't she called the police? That's it. I'm helping her. I don't care what anyone says, I'm helping her whether she likes it or not.

Notes