Silent Cries (Niam)

Chapter One-One for Luck

Nialls hand was shaking as he drew the blade across his skin. The crimson blood spilled slowly from the wound, it's journey mesmerizing the boy for several seconds before he put the tiny knife against his wrist once more.

One for getting yelled at.

One for being fat.

One for being ugly.

One for being useless.

One for being gay.

One for lying.

One for cutting.

One for not talking enough.

Niall made each cut neat, each approximately the same size. The blood ran out of his arm, its brilliant red staining the clear white porcelain sink as it slowly poured down the drain. The cuts hurt, worse than Niall remembered, and tears came to his eyes. He lifted the blade again at the sign of weakness.

One for being weak.

One for crying.

In some twisted way, it felt good to feel the searing pain on his wrist as he carefully rinsed the cuts. He was in control of this pain. It wasn't something that had been forced on him, it wasn't something he was trying to avoid, it wasn't some memory of an insult that hurt more than it should. This pain was all his. Created by him, felt by him.

He gently rubbed antiseptic cram over the cuts, feeling them sting. The burn almost brought tears to his eyes, but he remembered the last two cuts He had made. All of his weakness was supposed to be gone in those two cuts.

He pulled the plain white bandages from the cupboard, wrapping his arms in the soft cloth. Just as he finished wrapping up his wounds, a thought occurred to him. He picked up the blade, ignoring the blood on its tip and pulled up the edge of the bandage. He swiftly pulled the blade across the skin before letting the bandage fall again.

And One for luck.

Niall almost laughed at that statement as he cleaned up his mess. He carefully wiped and hid the blade, making sure it was hidden somewhere his brother wouldn't find it. He rinsed the sink thoroughly, making sure to be rid of any remaining spots of blood and even scoured the floor for any trace of the liquid, any clue to what he had done. He put away the bandages and the antiseptic cream. Once he was done, you could scarcely even tell he had been in the room.

And so when collapsed silently into bed at 2 in the morning, done with the deed, there was no reason for anyone to suspect a thing. But Niall, as he drifted into sleep, wished that sonebody Did know, thay somebody cared enough to ask. But no one could hear Nialls silent cries, no matter how loud he made them.