This is a double update make sure to read chapter 7 first!
t/w : self harm :(
no perspective :
As soon as Azail got home her speeded footsteps echoed sharply around the empty hallway, sounding overly loud in her own ears, like the booming heartbeat of a condemned prisoner.
Her hands burning up, chest is about to combust from the tight pressure as she's hyperventilating. She brings her hand to the back of her sweaty neck, rubbing it a bit as she tried to slow down her breath. The hallway felt so long and she was desperately reaching to her room for the privacy.
The anxious thoughts taking over her body, sending her another strong wave as she got to the door quickly opening and slamming it shut behind her back.
" Please, make it stop " she whined out in mercy, eyes pinching shut as she kept the back of her skull connected to the door.
Her traumatic past starting flooding back, her body looked calm compared to how tangled her mind was. Heart beating in her ears as her irrational trauma is coming back at full force.
Gasping out for air, she felt so lightheaded, cold sweat coating her body, the back her head ramming the surfaced door hard in ask of sympathy.
But she always knew what's supposed to happen in the next moment!
She pushed her self off the door but her limp legs couldn't stand still causing her to fall to her ass, she felt so detached from the environment. She brought her knees up as she wrapped her tingling arms around them in slight hug then she buried her face between them.
" Leave me alone please " she whispered to herself hoping this will stop quickly. Tears threatening to spill from her tired eyes.
Her past trauma is rallying her mind like a rollercoaster. " crying will only make it worst my sweet girl " she heard his voice like a reminder, she felt the heat of his breath that can only bring her discomfort. She shook terribly, biting her tongue and holding the air in her lungs until it burns.
Nooooooo, don't make things worse. Please don't!
Her legs press together subconsciously, the trembling gets worse and she tried to beg an apology but it's muffled by a solemn tear that fell down her cheek. Her eyes squeeze shut because she's absolutely terrified for what may come. Already she involuntarily started to remember his rough hands pushing up her skirt and venturing into untouched places, leaving her exploited and used.
She's sinking fast into a nightmare that's been haunting her deep within her soul for seven years causing her these miserable panic attacks.
She's always very aware of what's going on in her mind and what exactly triggers it, but she never knew how to harmlessly handle them yet she didn't want to give in sooner.
" I never did anything to deserve this " the words registering a dark place of trauma in her chest.
The heat kept washing up and down her limps as it caused her to feel restless, within seconds tears spilt over and flowed down her face like a river escaping a dam. Her bare kneecaps aching from being gripped too hard by her black long nails, she knew it left bloody red marks.
" I FUCKING HATE YOU " she shouted from a deep exhausted place in her tempted heart.
She's already so desperate for freedom!
A beginning of a panic attack for Azail always feels like when you're in the ocean and you see a large wave coming.
During it feels like the wave hit you and took you under.
After it feels like if you were then washed up on the shore, exhausted and depleted from fighting the wave.
She was ready to feel that relief, she needed to feel that relief...because she couldn't take this anymore, Over the years of having panic attacks azail learned that the only way to beat this mental torture is by intense physical one.
By setting her skin on fire in order to free her mind!
She stood up to her feet in a quick sharp motion, her stomach was turning to make her nauseous, clothes feeling too tight like she was being held captive in them. She stormed to the bathroom locking the door behind her.
She turned to the counter and leaned her palms on it, she felt the cold marble under her inflamed skin.
She meets her reflection in the mirror, her narrow squinted eyes can all convey deep meanings, they were bloodshot and puffy from her crying.
Sweating from head to toe, the levels of fright coursing through her veins and tainting her lungs, she found it difficult to stare into her own eyes long.
In a quick decision and shaky hands, she slid the cabinet open and grabbed her razor blade from a secret compartment in the back, she found a panel of wood that could be pried off and placed back without anyone noticing.
Sliding down on the floor, she unzipped the zip of her leather skirt throwing it off of her legs along with her underwear, seeing the fresh cuts on her hips, they look swollen and red.
Other times, when she looks at her scars she sees something else; a girl who was trying to cope with something horrible that she should have never had to live through at all, her scars resemble her pain and suffering but now they are just pathetic.
She inhales decisive to bring the razor blade along her inner thigh to create a sharp, intense cut that burns at her skin and now she's far rougher than she's ever been before.
Following with another just underneath and two others ones just as deep on her other thigh, it began to swell up immediately. Blood rushes to the area to accelerate the healing process, which made the skin around the wound look red and swollen.
Her head falls back to rest on the wall, her lips invulnerability part as she waited for the burning to die down.
Before she goes back, as everytime she makes herself bleeds and it hurts like nothing else but the rush is also like nothing else, yes- it does feels so good. The deeper she gets the more blood pools out the more it eases the pressure inside her.
But it never lasts long and she has to do it again...
••
- chapter 8; i hate to say that i wrote most of this from a personal experience:(
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him and i || harry styles
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