Chapter 5

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Harry's pov

"We need to talk" Paul says.

I twist my fingers nervously. "About what?" I ask, like I don't know.

"You know what. Something is off with you, and it's worrying me." He says concerned.

I sigh "I don't know. My um, my problems, have been getting worse." I say truthfully.

His face softens "Haz, why didn't you tell me? We could've taken a couple breaks if I knew." He says.

"I don't want to feel like I have to do something, just so I don't have a breakdown. I would be so embarrassed, and it would give Louis another reason to call me an attention whore." I say sadly

"Haz, you know I could talk to him, right?" He says.

"I know, but then he'll call me a snitch or something." I sigh.

"Okay Haz, but know that if you change your mind, I'll do it." He says protectively.

"Okay Paul, I'm just gonna go to the bathroom." I say smiling.

I stand up but immediately sit back down when I feel a sharp pain in my ankle.

"Are you okay H?" Paul asks worriedly.

"I don't know, I think my ankles sprained." I say whimpering.

My ankle had gone numb a long time ago, so the pain surprised me.

"We should go to the hospital" Paul says back.

He picks me up before I can protest, and he tells the boys the situation. Louis rolls his eyes and the other boys look worried.

"Attention whore" Louis says under his breath.

I don't comment on it, and I don't think anyone else heard him.

We all head to the car, to go to the hospital. When we get there Paul informs the front desk about what's happening and we go to the emergency room.

In the end, I have a cast on my ankle and a couple of bandages over cuts I didn't even know I had.

We get back to the hotel and it's late. I'm tired but I feel the urge to cut, so I do.

A nuisance

A problem

A pathetic excuse of a human

An insult for each cut.

Tomorrow, Zayn will be here. I feel like that thought was all that was anchoring me in the moment.

I fell asleep with tears on my face for the second night in a row. It's better than my record. 497 nights in a row is my record. It helps me to count. I wish it didn't.

The number is pathetic and so am I.

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