"I can't believe my baby is going to prom! EEEE!" cries my Mum, clapping her hands as she dances around the room. "The best day of my life!"

I hated the idea of going to prom. This wasn't my idea of a good time and never will be. My head was hurting from the headaches, because I was stressing out over what will happen. This was my constant worry: what will happen to me. It's all I spend my time doing and there's hardly any room for anything else.

I was getting paid for attending the stupid festivities.

"You'll love it, come on," says Pa.

"It's time to go let's get you there early."

I had a bad feeling about this, and it wasn't going away any time soon. Ah! My gut was about to pop with negative emotions. It was as if my own body was allergic to happiness. I couldn't deal with it.

My parents have promised to drop me off but stay back and don't get involved. That's if something happens when I get there.

Cars, taxis, and all sorts of other vehicles, are placed around the venue of choice. I couldn't seem to get it together. My stomach was in somersaults as it thought about attending this stupid thing. It wasn't my version of fun. But here I was, ready, and about to participate, for the sake of making someone else's lifestyle better than my own. I wasn't thinking with my head screwed on.

There was someone at the venue with a clipboard, taking names, giving out wristbands, to prove that you're on the list. I didn't think I would need a ticket as Niall said he would pay for mine. I was okay to go ahead and go right on in, surely?

The man stops me by holding up my hand. Creating a massive gap between us, for no reason, as if I was some sort of party crasher without an invite.

I keep myself to myself. I fold my arms to comfort myself, so I didn't look as awkward as I feel.

He looks me up and down before asking: "Who are you with?"

I didn't know what to say. "Niall Horan."

"Niall Horan? Whos school are you from?"

"Hopewell Academy."

Students behind me start laughing at me. Wait? Did I get given the wrong address?

"This isn't Hopewell's Prom, sorry kid."

I immediately walk away with everyone laughing at the second-hand embarrassment.

I was never going to show my face around here again. What was worse was that around the exit, of the front porch, a little wire was tripped by me and something fell down on me. A bunch of fake blood fell on me and ruined the rental dress.

Around the corner, Jenna Hunter, and Niall Horan, with the rest of their group start taking pictures. This was the worst night of my entire life. I was never going to trust any boy again.