Chapter 8

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The following day at school, I basically ignored everyone. I just didn't feel like it.

We only had school until noon because of some special occasion but I didn't mind. I was ready to go home.

At home, I made myself a sandwich. Once I was done, I made up my mind to unwind myself, to just relax.

All that drama tensed me up, I could hardly concentrate.

As I plugged my earphones in, the soothing tunes slightly loosened the bundle of stress inside me.

Just when I thought I'd be able to function again, a notification popped up from my phone's screen.

Messages from all sorts of social media platforms were attacking me. From my classmates, from people I didn't even know from school.

I was not expecting this. Nor was I mentally prepared for this.

The more I scrolled down the texts, the more vigorously my hands started to shake uncontrollably.

When I came across the word "nerd", tears started to spill, no matter how hard I tried to blink them back.

Somehow, I don't know why, I read the whole lot of the messages.

"Such an attention seeker!" "What a way to show people again that she's better than everyone." "A lot of people would love to have Emma Watson as their mother." "Being Emma Watson's daughter definitely isn't everything, she can't even make friends with others."

I couldn't, and didn't have any remaining energy left to fight the negative thoughts bursting into me.

Why can't people understand me? Why do I get all this attention, positive or negative? I didn't ask for heads to turn at me, people to speculate my every-day life. 

So what did I do to deserve to be Mum's daughter. I'm not good enough to be in this position. I can't even stop my body from shaking right now. In what way am I worthy to keep up to the expectations with such a title? 

I found it harder and harder to breathe. I painted, gaping for air.

Why me?

I remained on the couch sitting there staring at nothing, as I rambled to myself. The room felt like it was spinning. I hugged my trembling knees close as I took deep breaths in and out with effort. New Years replaced old ones on my already tear-stained face. 

I demanded myself to stop, but it didn't seem to work.

What's happening to me? I hate this. I suck. Why can't I just be strong? 

Finally, I seemed to be able to breathe properly again. I stared at myself on the black screen of my phone. Ugh, I'm a wreck.

I choked back some tears that threatened to escape my eyelids. I re-opened my phone and regrouped my senses enough to press a call to my mum's assistant on set.

"Hey, um, can you come pick me up to set? I need to see my mum, now."

-

I'd managed to calm down a bit in the car ride. I just really needed Mum right now.

I had expected to be able to see her, in character, doing what she loves, on set. That magical feeling, which I hadn't experienced in a while. It would soothe me. 

I smiled genuinely for the first time since yesterday at the very thought.

What took me by surprise though, was instead of seeing Mum in character, being filmed by huge cameras in a scene, I saw her immediately come towards me.

Emma Watson NorthWhere stories live. Discover now