You and Me (Larry Stylinson-Book One)

Chapter 17 - The Second Month

A/N Once Again, another one page update. This one is super short as well so sorry! It will all make sence why I did it in the end though :) By the way, this story has over 20k reads?! That's insane guys! I love you all so much! Thank you. I really do love all my readers.

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 I hated this.

I hated feeling alone.

I hated feeling empty.

I hated him not being here.

It felt like someone had taken a boulder and placed it upon my shoulders, making me drag myself around, drowning in my own sorrow.

Never in my life had I ever experienced depression. I had seen it in many books and films, but I had never actualyl encountered it in real life.

But now, I knew exactly how it felt. The way they write it in books or how they display it in movies is completely poor in comparison to how it really is.

Its the worst thing in the world. Worser than any sickness you could ever get, worser than any cut that digged into your skin.

With those, you felt pain. Whether it was more of a burning sensation or even a slight sting. Whatever it was, it was better than this.

This feeling was so hard to describe, I really couldn't put it into words.

But I guess the only way I could describe it was

Empty.

It's all I ever felt.

Completely, utterly, empty.

It was life I had gone numb. Like it was me they were sticking medicine in instead of Harry.

While some people would embrace the numbness, I wanted nothing more than to it to go away. Sobbing my eyes out and feeling pain for myself was way better than thsi could ever be.

Everyones become worried about me. I hadn't been eating a lot and it was worrying everyone. But they just didn't get it.

I wasn't hungry

How hard was that to understand? Yes, I had dropped down in weight immensly, but did that really matter? I didn't really care anymore.

All I cared about was whether or not Harry was going to wake up.

I told my self constantly that he would, that he would just wake up and everything would be okay again. But slowly, the hope that I had began to sink down, disappearing.

I still had some hope, but very little. I just really couldn't seem to believe he would actually wake up. Not to mention the doctors didn't have a clue.

Zayn had insisted that being in the hospital was not going to do me any good so he brought me back home.

I usually just stayed in bed all day. Staring at the ceiling and counting the little dust balls that floated around.

Weirdly enough, I found myself realizing that was exactly how I was at that moment.

A Dust Ball.

Drifting around the air with no place to go. Confused. Alone.

Though there were thousands around me that cared, it was like they weren't. I guess I could blame myself for that. I just drowned everyone else. Afraid of more pain.

So here I was today sitting on the marble counter of my bathroom as I ran my fingers in small patterns around it.

I looked at my reflection and frowned at the boy in front of me.

I sighed and looked up, eyeing the medicine cabinet.

I shivered, remembering how Harry had offed himself.

After that, I couldn't stop shaking. It was like I was having a seizure with my eyes open. My heart began to race and my intakes of breath began to quicken. It was like I was having some sort of anxiety attack.

I looked around the room in desperate need of a inhaler when I saw something shine in the corner of my eye.

I turned around to see a small razor lying on the tub and slowly, I walked over to it. I didn't really know what I was doing. I just needed something. I needed realise.

I needed to feel something.

I grabbed onto the blade and sunk the sharp ends into my skin. Digging it lightly into my flesh.

The blade dropped and I slowly sunk onto the ground, my head pounding against the wall. I sat there in awe at the sight of it.

Blood oozed out of the small cut and I watched in amazement.

My breaths had slowed and my heart beat had calmed.

A strong sting came from my wrist and I hissed at the feeling. But slowly, I started to smile.

For the first time for a long time, I actually felt something.

So I grabbed the blade again and sliced it into my skin once more, faster this time.

After that I couldn't stop. I continued to cut my arm, desperate for the feeling. After cuts and cuts later I lied on the floor with tears flooding from my eyes.

After hours of just lying there, I looked down at my arm. The once oozing blood had dried and it was no longer bleeding.

I slowly touched it and winced at the pain, the cuts still sore. I touched it once more and smiled at the feeling.

The numbness was gone.

Maybe it wouldn't always be gone, but I didn't really care.

I had found it.

I had found my realise.

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A/N

I got way more into that than I should have and I'm sorry for how graphic that was! Haha, If you don't like self harm that was deff. NOT the chapter for you.

Poor Louis :(

It killed me writing this..

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~Lizzy xx