Angel Boy l.s

38

TW/ mentions of self harm, child abuse, and domestic abuse in this chapter. I am putting another little warning ⚠️ right before the self harm part, that way anyone who needs to can skip it.

Louis sobbed and then tried to hold his breath to silence himself, the darkness was swallowing the fourteen year old, as he was curled up in his closet. On Christmas Day.

He heard banging downstairs in the kitchen, as well as screaming between his parents. They fought often, and it would get violent.

Louis tried to stay as far away as possible, because if he was even in their sight he knew they'd somehow drag him into their disastrous argument and it would turn into a beating.

His sisters would be fine, they were used to the violence and weren't scared. They just sat and played in their rooms with their new toys during all of this.

Louis was crying because he hated himself and his life, and he felt pathetic curled up in his closet. This year he hadn't even been allowed to open any gifts on Christmas. He was forced to watch all of his sisters open their nice, pretty, feminine gifts. He didn't care about not getting gifts though, because they always got him masculine things anyway.

They had told him he couldn't have any gifts at all this year, because he told Lilly he was gay during the summer and embarrassed them in front of his parents' friends.

Apparently almost drowning wasn't enough of a punishment.

He didn't care about the fighting at this point, even when he heard a glass break loudly downstairs followed by his mum crying. All he was worried about was staying out of their way, and praying silently that neither of them would come into his room to take it out on him.

He stayed in that closet most of the day, until finally his mother ended up leaving the house and slamming their front door. By then it was dark outside, and Louis's father had passed out drunk on the sofa.

He heard his mum's loud old car leave the driveway. When it was quiet and he thought it safe to leave the closet, he did, and silently walked into the bathroom.

⚠️tw

He ran the water, stripped his clothes and laid in the tub, his crying would not stop. He tried to shut himself up, but to no avail.

Louis was exhausted from his extremely high levels of anxiety and depression throughout the years, and just flat out wished it would all end.

He pulled at his damp hair, some pieces ripping out into his hands, and he tried to enjoy the burning water on his skin, but it wouldn't work anymore. Wasn't enough.

He reached under the old carpet next to the bathtub, and picked up the razor blade he left there from when he broke his father's razor.

Louis took in a deep breath, held it, and pressed the blade into the soft skin on his left wrist. He pushed harder and harder and harder.. until the pale scarred skin broke open and he felt it burning and his pulse throbbing impossibly hard. He then slid the blade over, making a longer incision.

His crimson blood came trickling fast and thick down his arm and into the water. He always loved that pink water.

Louis snapped back to the present and realized Harry was knelt over the bath, his clothes getting soaked. He was holding Louis's bleeding arms in his hands, shouting something that Louis couldn't quite make out until he fully became aware of what was happening.

He had been pushing his own razor into his arm instead of shaving his legs like he'd planned. He was bleeding. This was now the present.

Harry had come into the bathroom, Louis didn't know when he did, but he must've taken the razor away, it was thrown across the room on the tile floor.