The rest of the day went by the same. People kept pushing me and whispering rumors, the usual. I just brushed off the shit they gave me and continued with my day. I rushed home at the end of the day, scared that people would find me.
Before I could open the front door, a strong hand gripped my shoulder. I was quickly turned around to face the anonymous person. Of course, it was Zayn.
"So this is where faggy lives." He smirked while he took a small view of the entrance.
"How did you find me?" I replied with fear in my voice.
"How do you think I found you? I followed you home, idiot. Use your fucking brain!" He shouted. His raised voice made me flinch, causing his grip to tighten.
"Awwe, did I scare little fatty?" He pouted. Tears brimmed my eyes, causing me to blink rapidly.
"Leave me alone." I said pushing his hand off my shoulder and turning to the door. A foot suddenly hit my back causing me to hit the door face first and fall. I let out a yelp when he started pressing his boot agaist my back. He leaned down close to my ear and said,
"I better watch out for you, fatty. You'll probably throw up again" His breath hit my neck causing me to shiver. He kicked me for a final time and fled the scene . I was left on the floor, clinging to my body. Tears spilled down my cheeks and I wondered why this all happened to me, why was in such a miserable life.
I got up from the floor and unlocked the door. My stomach began to feel uneasy and I knew what was about to happen. I ran up the stairs and locked myself in the bathroom. I hurried to the toilet and spilled out all the contents in my stomach. This lasted for about 5-10 minutes, but when I finished, I wasn't satisfied.
I opened the cupboard and grabbed the pair of scissors. I brought them close to my stomach and slowly pulled the blade across my cold skin. Blood came rushing out and I quickly proceed with this process until my body was covered in small and large scratches. I looked in the mirror and examined my stomach and scars. Hideous.
I feel fat. I feel ugly. I feel like a whale on legs. I want to rip all the fat off me and become a skinny and beautiful person. No one will ever love me. How could someone love such a repulsive and disgusting joke of a human. I'm just not enough.
I washed the scissors and put them back where they once were. I tried my best to clean up all the evidence of the events that just took place and cleaned all the blood off my body. I grabbed a few gauges and wrapped them around my stomach, hoping it would hide the scars and blood.
Suddenly, I hear the front door open and a happy mother humming an old song. Shit. I quickly rush out of the bathroom trying to make as little noise as possible. I open the room to my door and rush the bed, hoping that if she comes in, she'll think I'm asleep. I turn to face towards the wall and wait for the footsteps to come closer. I hear the door open and a pair of high heels walk into the room.
"Louis, I know you're not asleep. I saw you walk in here trying to avoid me." She whispered. I sighed in defeat and turned to face my mother. She's dressed in a coat of makeup and a dress that goes down to her knees. Her earrings and neck jewelry almost blind me by their reflection and I keep wondering why she is dressed like she went on a.....date?!
"Why are you dressed like that?" I ask in confusion. Her face instantly lights up and I can tell where this is going.
"I met somebody." She says with a smile on her lips. She looks so much happier, but very artificial with the makeup and choice of clothing.
"And that is who?" I reply still wondering who she met and why they made her so happy.
"Nobody important at the moment. How have you been?" She asks calmly trying to change the subject. Does she not think I can be thoughtful? Just as Zayn said, I need to use my brain, and that's what I'm trying to do.
"I can be better, but I'm doing fine." I half tell the truth. I can be better, but I'm not so sure about the "fine" part.
"You do remember that the therapy group meets on Fridays and Saturdays, right? I made the appointment last night and you'll be going tomorrow at noon." She replies with such serenity in her tone. I groan in frustration and pull a pillow over my head but soon accept that there is no why I'm getting out of this.
"Yea yea, okay. But you're going to have to wake me up early on a weekend and I don't think you would enjoy that." I say putting emphasis on those three words. She sighs but then says,
"Yes, okay. But remember, it's all to make you feel better." She says as she strokes my head.
"Yea okay, now go away. I really want to sleep now." I say turning my back from her and facing the wall. I pull the blanket up to my chest and shut my eyes. She leans down and presses a kiss against the side of my head and says,
"Sweet dreams my strong, little boy." and leaves the room quietly. It takes me about 10 seconds for me to pass out of exhaustion, but I kept thinking of one final thing, why was I excited about going tomorrow?
---
Hey guys ;))) I'm so sorry I haven't updated in literally forever but I've been so so busy and when I do have time I'm so lazy so please accept this apology. I know it's quite a short chapter and probably what you were not expecting since it took me 2 weeks to update but it is 2 in the morning and I'm half asleep so excuse my horrible writing. I hope you at least enjoyed som of this chapter and I'm just going to go to bed. Have a wonderful day/night and remember, louis loves harry & harry loves louis 🌱💦💓💫 ( I also made a new cover so tell me what you think ;] ) -Oscar. Xx
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The Suicide Club // Larry Stylinson
Fanfiction"We're just a bunch of suicidal teens with suicidal thoughts." where dismorphia met depression, insomnia met obsession, and schizophrenia met aggression. [warning : this book contains triggering details so please read at your own risk,]
