Scars (Ziam)

Confidence

Hello everyone!

I would like to apologize again for taking so long on updates. My plan for the year was to finish at least two of my stories in order to post on others or new ones, but I have no clue if that goal is still feasible for me with the way my mental health has been.

I won't talk too much about it, but I have been struggling recently. I am trying to take time for myself, but it's difficult when my whole family depends on me.

Anyways, I still really love writing, but it's hard to do or stay focused for long periods of time when I am constantly sleepy or just wanting to relax for a moment, so please, please bare with me!

I hope you all really love this chapter, and I hope it can make you all smile a little. It explains a bit about Liam's scars, and I hope it makes sense.

Love you all, and I am always here to talk. ❤❤

Enjoy!

Chapter 46:

Climbing out of bed to go to school felt like a giant task, and I knew it was something so minor to other people, but Ruth treated it like a huge accomplishment for me, telling me that she was proud of me as she dropped me off outside of the school building. I only nodded, refusing to acknowledge it as anything but a false start, knowing that I would fail in trying to hold my head up at school. That would be my failure of the day, and I knew it.

I tried to remind myself to be positive-- using positive affirmations-- but I wasn't accustomed to that. It wasn't my normal, and it was really hard to fall into. I didn't understand how people could be so positive all of the time. I saw it in Ruth every day at home, in Louis all the time at school, and it was all my therapists tried to remind me to be. I had to think positively, but my mind was like a minefield, and I was tiptoeing to try and avoid an explosion. I didn't know if it was even an attainable goal for someone with so many problems in their head like me because Niall seemed happy-go-lucky on the outside, but sitting through therapy with him taught me that he had his own personal storm on the inside. Positivity couldn't just fix that like magic, could it?

I walked into the school building and immediately lowered my head. Even if I thought to try and hold my head up, all of those plans flew out of the door the moment I stepped foot inside of the building. I could feel the stares that were always there, judging me and pushing me away. They pushed in from all sides, and my chest felt tight as I tried to walk down the hall without paying anybody any mind. It proved futile as I soon froze up, my legs not moving as I wanted them to, only drawing more unwanted attention to myself.

I was beginning to panic. I was familiar with the feeling now, and I knew the signs. Ezra talked to me about tips to refocus my mind or distract myself, but I couldn't think clearly to even try anything. I started counting in my head, but I was counting too fast. Everything was happening far too quickly. And right when I felt like I couldn't breathe, I heard a familiar voice.

"Hey, Liam," Niall greeted. He pulled me out of my own mind as I looked up to see him wearing a tiara on his head. I guess it was enough of a shocking distraction.

The tiara read "Irish Princess," and he paired it with an awful shirt that had actual sparkles all over it and "Kiss Me I'm Irish," written in sequins.

"What are you wearing?" It was a genuine question, but Niall laughed and shrugged.

"A distraction," He said, stopping in front of me. "You said you were supposed to try and hold your head up, so I figured I could help out." We began to walk through the halls, and most people's eyes tended to shift to Niall's ridiculous get-up. I understood what he was doing.