Scars (Ziam)

Beautiful

Another update!

This one has some Ziam, and their relationship will develop more and more after this chapter. This chapter also explains Zayn's eagerness to know Liam better from the beginning. Hope it makes sense and was explained properly. ☺

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of bullying, depression, and a little more of Zayn's own backstory. Please read carefully. ❤

Love you all and enjoy!

Chapter 37:

The writing club hangout went pretty well. I was genuinely surprised by the fact, and I felt a little lighter knowing that I was able to read something aloud and get such positive feedback. Of course, knowing that fact didn't mean it felt any easier to actually read in front of others. The thought alone, in fact, still made me want to hide away and not make a sound.

Even though the hangout went well, today wasn't an easy day. I really didn't want to climb out of bed today. I wanted to lay there and not do anything. I felt myself on the verge of breaking down as I forced myself to take my medication this morning. It seemed that even with the ups and accomplishment, there still came lows and feelings of emptiness. I wanted to break that cycle, but I didn't know the first clue in how to do so.

"Hey freak!" I heard a voice shout down the hall. I tensed up. It was a  voice I hadn't heard in a long time, and I was truly beginning to believe that I would never have to worry about hearing that voice again. However, things rarely went my way.

I turned, forgetting the class that I was walking to, and I tried to disappear in the small crowd of teenagers in the school hallway. I rushed passed people, not even murmuring polite words as I shrugged passed others, shoulders nudging them aside as I rushed passed. But the voice was catching up to me, and the panic inside was beginning to build.

"Where the fuck are you running to?" I felt the hand on my arm, and then I was being tossed into a locker. The harsh metal of the locker slamming into my face and causing a sting. My school bag fell to the ground as my grip loosened on it. I heard multiple people mumble to one another as they watched what was happening.

"I have class," I excused. Jaden only scoffed at that. I felt his fist meet my cheek, making my head turn and knock into the locker once more.

"You're a waste of space. Nobody would miss you in class anyway. In fact, nobody would miss you at all. You're just stealing oxygen for others that actually deserve it."

I heard some people talking about getting the nearest teacher in the crowd, but nobody made a move. It was only suggestions.

"I have to attend," I tried again. I moved to pick up my bag, but it was snatched out of my hand. The contents of the bag were spilled to the ground as Jaden unzipped it and turned it upside down. She shook the bag, and I rushed to grab my writing journal as it slammed onto the ground with a loud smack.

Jaden was faster.

He bent down and grabbed the journal, stepping on my hand in the process. The sole of his shoe crushed down on my hand, causing an ache in my knuckles. He didn't let up.

"Well, well. What's this? Your diary?" He mocked, picking up the journal and dangling it above me. "Let's see just how damaged you are, yeah?"

I watched in horror as he opened up my journal and began to flick through the pages. Tears built in my eyes as he began to read one, laughing as he read to himself before beginning to recite the poem in a loud voice that traveled down the school hallway.

"I am not the spitting image of my father, nor do I resemble my mother," He read out, and my breathing began to pick up. I didn't care about the throbbing pain in my knuckles or the sting of my cheek. I didn't care about the mess of items that spilled out of my school bag. I didn't even care about the fact that I would probably get a bruise on my cheek from the punch thrown at me. All I could think about was the fact that he was reading my thoughts aloud. My most personal thoughts.