Broken and Bruised (One Direction Fan Fic)

And the Truth comes Pouring Out

Niall's P.O.V Continued.

The whole room seemed to move in slow motion. Her arms just hang by her side, limply, while Liam wraps her up in a hug.

What the hell is her name??

Her shoulders start to shake and she wraps her arms around Liam. He whispers in her ear and then holds her at arms length. Tear stained and red she glances back at us. Embarrassment written in every perfect facial feature. I gaze into her eyes but only seeing pain, Hurt and fear. Upon impulse we all shove our seats back and embrace her in a warm group hug.

A cough of annoyance hisses at us, breaking and ruining the moment. Our small, tight circle opens up to four girls standing together, looking extremely pissed. I gaze back at the girl the group is glaring at. She's standing very still, hands shaking and her head down. Something bad is about to happen. The cuteish blonde girl in the middle speaks up.

"Excuse me, but why are you hugging her!? She's nothing but a piece of shit on the ground. She's worthless and nobody loves her." Shock hits me like a tonne of bricks. Who and why would say stuff like this. There is some serious bad blood between these girls. I pray silently for the scarred girl to bite back with a comeback but nothing happens. We all turn and stare at this mysterious girl who hasn't moved one muscle.

"Excuse me, but-" Harry starts but one of the girls cuts him off.

"Aww Jordan, look at that! You've got a knight in shining armour here, defending you! Isn't that sweet!?" One of the brunettes sneers. So Jordan's her name. Harry starts to say something but again he is cut off.

"Harry don't bother. It's not even worth it. I don't need a hero to rescue me. I can defend myself." And with that, Jordan was gone. Definitely bad blood.

Jordan's P.O.V

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Harry Styles just saved my ass. And what did I do? Nothing except tell him no. Could I say that? I'm going to kill myself though. I can't believe I let my scars be put on display to the world. All of this drama would never of happened if I wore a shirt with longer sleeves. After I ran, no, sprinted home i threw myself on my bed and cried. After crying for what seemed like hours, I peel my shirt off and throw it on the floor. I stroll into the bathroom ready for what is next to come. I search around for the shiny blade. The blade that helps me with my pain. Blade at the ready, I slide the cool, shiny piece of metal across my skin. Teasing it. I then slice it through my pale skin, crimson blood seeping from the self inflicted wound. As I move onto my left wrist, a knock barges its way through my door.

"Hello??" A familiar British voice sings out. Not being able to do much, I carry on with the bloody, task. The door handle turns, bearing open my flat to the busy streets of London. All five boys see what I am doing and rush to my aid. Why didn't I lock the damn door!?

Louis snatches the blade from my hand. Which results in me sending him a death glare.

Niall looks for bandages and Zayn helps. Great, that's fine just tear my bathroom apart.

Harry puts an arm around me and Liam ties up the bandages hiding my selfharm. I wrench out from Harry's grasp and storm to the couch.

"How did you find me? How did you find my flat??" I ask seething.

"Those girls, told us where to find you." Niall says, with his adorable Irish accent. I raise an eyebrow which then means all of them stare at me. Surprisingly I don't feel uncomfortable.

"Who are you?" Zayn asks curiosity sparkling in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, I begin to tell One Direction who I am.

"Well my name's Jordan. I'm seventeen years old. I was diagnosed with depression at thirteen. Mum kicked me out at fifteen. I live alone. Uhh..." I trail off lost for words. They're still staring at me. I'm fighting a sarcastic comment but oops to late. " Take a picture it'll last longer." The boys are all taken aback at my comment but hey, their staring is creepy and a little uncomfortable as well.

"Where are you from Jordan?" Louis ask, elbows on his knees.

"Manchester." I confirm.

"How come you're living all the way here, in London?" Liam asks.

"Mum kicked me out, but I lived with my aunty for a few months. I ran away though because everyone new my story. They always looked at me as a freak of nature. so I ran and that's how I ended up here." I reply, a tear running down my cheek.

"Where did your aunty live?" Niall asks, quietly.

"Oxford." I say as another tear scales its way down my cheek as flashbacks and horrible memories fill my vision.

"Did you hitch hike from Oxford to here!?" Louis asks.

"I didn't hitch hike. I snuck on a bus at one point but then that broke down, so I walked. It cleared my head up though. I could marvel at all the scenery and forget about my past. I did think about a lot of things though."

"What did you think about.?" Harry asks.

"Life, Death. How and why my life was chosen to be this way. I thought a lot about death. I imagined ways I could kill myself. How I could take my life away." I have to admit, I've never talked about this to any one before. But why them? "If you tell anyone, I will hut you down and possibly kill you. You guys are the first people I've ever talked to in months. I'll tell you something though. All my family members think I'm dead. Believe me I want to be. I used to be blonde you know. My dad papered the streets with missing posters after I ran away from my aunt. He even made the news. And I know, you're probably wondering how I know this but I have a laptop and the laptop hase internet. So yeah. The police did a search for a few months but they couldn't find me. So I was presumed dead. I have to keep dying my hair otherwise people will reconise me. I had to come up with a new name, a new life and a new me." I say all evidence of tears gone.

"What was your original name?" Man these boys are nosy.

"Lucy Davidson as people called me but my full name is Lucinda Ruby Davidson. I hate my real name anyway. So yeah." I say with a shrug. They looked around at each other, nervous.

Wait hang on a minute!

Why the HELL have I opened up to these strangers? I barely know them. I promised myself to never talk about my past.

Guess what.

I just broke that promise. My past is a horrible placeand I don't even like to think about it, let alone talk about it. I'm gonna lose sleep over this. My deadly, harsh thoughts will drink up my sleep like a thirsty vampire. And so I will lose sleep for the next couple of nights.

God must really hate me.

"Jordan? Jordan!" Someone calls, bringing me back to earth.

"Whaa?" I say, startled. I had been so locked up in my thoughts that I forgot I had company, famous hot company.

Oh dear. Did I really just think that?? "Do you want some tea?" I ask, breaking the silence.

"Yep," They all chorus. As I turn around I wack my foot against the door frame. I keeping cool on the outside but on the inside I'm screaming in pain. I throwing a fake smile over my shoulder and hobble into the small kitchen.

What have I done??