Scars (Ziam)

Second Session

Another update!

This story is at a slower part right now, but things will pick up momentarily.

Warning: This chapter is very depressing and mentions depression/symptoms of depression. If you are dealing with depression, please know that I am always here if you need to talk, and it is okay to feel afraid to reach out for help, but you DO deserve it. You deserve support and love.

Love each and every one of you. Please read carefully! (More Zayn next chapter for my Zayn deprived people)

Chapter 23:

"Hello, Liam. It's nice to see you again," Dr. Phillips greeted with a smile as we took our usual seats. I was still rather nervous to talk to her, but at least she wasn't a complete stranger any longer. "How have you been?"

"Fine," I lied in a hoarse voice.

The week had been a long one, and a very difficult one. I had been avoiding a lot of people and slowly slipping deeper and deeper into the darkest corners of my mind.

Getting out of bed was becoming more and more challenging. I knew that I had to go to school, but I didn't care about going. My grades were already slipping rapidly, and I would be surprised if I actually graduated this year. I knew that I wouldn't be if things continued the way they were. My dad told me that it was still early in the year, but I had my doubts. I wasn't even trying to study anymore or pay attention in class. In fact, I was skipping most of my classes and hiding out in the library because it was quiet there and nobody seemed to openly stare in shock at my face.

I went to work, but it was difficult to talk to Zayn. I had been doing everything in my power to avoid conversation with him, even skipping out on our weekly frozen yogurt hangout because being alone with him was far too difficult. It was just a constant reminder of something I could never have.

He came to visit me. On the first day that I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed, he showed up at the house and spoke to Ruth about seeing me. He came into my room, standing at my bedroom door, and I kept my eyes focused on the dandelion painting, still never moving from my bed.

"Hey, Liam. How are you feeling?" He asked in a gentle tone, finally walking over to the bed and rounding it so I could see him. He sat on the edge of my bed, and I felt mt heart ache.

"I'm fine," I replied, but I knew it was obvious that I was a mess. I probably looked terrible and smelled horrible. I never left the bed-- not to shower, not to wash up, not to brush my teeth, nothing. I didn't have to use the restroom because I had nothing in my system. The bowl of tomato soup sat untouched on my nightstand. I felt horrid as I saw Ruth's eyes water as she sat it there the last time she came to check on me.

"Work was boring without you," He offered, cracking a smile for me. "My uncle made me clean everything by myself. Even the bread table, which should have been his job. I think his manager position is going to his head."

I knew he was trying to joke around to distract me from my thoughts, but I could only think about the poem I wrote about him in my journal. The notebook sat on my nightstand where Ruth left it. I wanted to hide away, but there was no way he knew just by looking at it or me. He couldn't.

I didn't offer a reply, but Zayn didn't seem deterred. In fact, he didn't frown or beg for a reply like my family did. Instead, he smiled gently and continued talking, not caring that it was a one-sided conversation.

"I painted something last night that I think you'd really like. I'll show it to you some time, but it's still drying right now. I decided to try oil paints, and it turned out pretty well," I saw him glance at the dandelion painting on my wall, a satisfied glint in his eyes. "I thought about you as I painted it."