On My Own
Chapter Seven
I stared at my reflection in my bathroom mirror. I was disgusting.
There were dark circled under my eyes from lack of proper sleep, my hair was mess, and my eyes looked dull. But worst of all, my face looked thinner, almost a hollowed appearance to it.
Letting out a shaky sigh, I dug into the drawer, pulling out my razor. I turned it over in a hands a few times before removing my bracelets and placing the blade to the scarred skin, dragging it across and leaving a trail of blood in it's wake.
I gave a little gasp at the pain, until it quickly subsided, turning into the numbness I was searching for. The pain was gone, and I wanted more. One, two, three more cuts on the battle-scarred wrist, the pain cleansing my thoughts, making my mind more clear.
I froze when I thought I heard movement in the flat. Was someone here? One of the boys?
I rushed to the sink, running cold water over my burning arm, trying to stop the bleeding as I heard distinct footsteps. It as probably Liam, being nosy again.
It was taking too long, so I grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my forearm just as I heard a knock on the bathroom door.
"Uh, who is it?" I called, trying and failing to keep my boice steady
"Zayn, It's Niall," oh, thank God, "You alright, mate?"
"Um, yeah I'm fine. I'm good" I lied
"Well, you just kinda left Louis and Harry's place, so I came to check up on you."
"Well, I'm fine. You can go now" I said, worry leaking into my voice
"Zayn, what's going on in there? You don't sound alright"
"Well, I am. I swear"
"Zayn, I"m coming in"
"No! Wait a minute"
"I'm opening the door!"
"NO!" I yelled, but it was too late. The blond boy stood staring at me, confused.
I just stood there like a deer caught in headlights, the white towel around my arm, blood stains showing through in some places.
"Jesus, mate, are you alright?" he asked, concerned, as he rushed forward to me. I pulled my arm back and hid it behind my back.
"I...I'm fine, I just, uh...got a cut from, um a glass" I stuttered
"Let me see it" the Irish boy urged, trying to pull my arm into his veiw
"No, uh, i'ts fine. Just a scratch..."
But it was no use. He grabbed my arm and pulled it in front of me, unwrapping the towel. He gasped as he gazed at my heavily scarred wrist, blood still slightly trickling from a few of the fresh cuts. It was evident none of it was accidental.
Tears welled up quickly in his eyes. "Oh, Zayn....why?" he asked, looking up at me with sadness in his deep blue orbs
"I...I can't explain. You wouldn't understand..." A sob chocked itself out of my throat, tears falling from my eyes. I looked away from my friend in shame.
"Zayn, you could have come to me! Why, why would you do this to yourself? It's...it's just, It's terrible!" He cried, his cheeks wet with his salty tears.
"I know....I'm so sorry .." I broke off and slumped to the floor before I could say anymore. I was finished. Niall would tell the boys, managment would find out, and I'd be gone.
My blond friendsat on the floor next to me, pulling me into his arms, my head on his chest. He just held me there and we cried, both of us, for a long time. I don't know why he as crying, it wasn't his life that was in the toilet.
After wheat seemed like forever, he finally spoke, "Zayn, was it because we sent you to the physiatric hospital?"
"Partly" I admitted, not wanting to explain any further.
"Zayn....we just wanted to help you. If you were so miserable, why didn't you say anything?"
"What the hell would I have said? That being there made me realize what dirt I really am? That I found out that the world basically hates me? That no matter what I do, I'm no good and never will be? That I hoped every night when I went to bed I wouldn't wake up?"
He was silent for a while. "Is that really what you felt? You....you wanted to die?"
"Yeah," I admitted, suddenly feeling ashamed
"But why? Zayn, the fans love you! We love you! Without you, there is no band!"
"I...I don't even know how to start explaining, I'm sorry Niall. I don't even know how to explain it to myself, mostly. It's just, everything. And there's nothing anyone can do. I'm fuckked up, and no one can fix it." I breathed, trying to prevent the sob in my throat from escaping.
"Zayn, please. Please just beleive me when I tell you, seeing you this hurt, this upset has hurt me. I don't want you to feel this way. None of us do." he let out a shaky sigh "Please, please don't hurt yourself! I don't even know what to say..." he staretd crying again.
I felt awful. Here I was, upsetting poor Niall. He didn't ask to have a screw up in his band, and now I just felt worse for making him upset.
"maybe...maybe the boys and I can help you. You know, take care of you and work on it until you're better. We can take care of you-" he stopped when I jumped up, out of his grip. I glared down at him.
"No, Niall. You're not telling the boys. They're not going to find out, and neither is anyone else. I tried to keep this to myself, but you just had to barge in. Now you're going to keep this a secret, do you hear me?" I snapped
He looked scared and nervous, as if I would reach out and choke him if he didn't comply.
"Oh....ok. Sorry, Zayn" he looked unsure as he stood up. "Just know that if you ever, ever need anything, I'm here. Please, just please tell me you'll stop. I don't want you to hurt yourself, Zayn" more tears were threatening to fall form his eyes. I pulled him into a final hug before realising something.
"Oh, I uh, got some blood on your shirt....." I said, ashamed
"Don't worry about it. I'll change before I see the boys again." then, almost as a second thought, he added "Do you want me to stay here with you?"
"No thanks, I'm alright. I just want to be alone. It's sorta what I'm used to by now"
He gave me a suspicious look, but I shook my head.
He left the bathroom, left the flat, without another word.
伤*
TheWrittenInfection