Exit Wounds- A Niall Horan Fan-Fiction

Chapter 9

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS CONTENT THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME VIEWERS! VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!

Niall’s POV:

                I released her shirt letting her fall to the ground with a hard thud. She let out a small grunt and just stared up at me with confused and hurt eyes. Maybe now she would finally get the hint that she was supposed to me scared of monsters. Especially monsters like me, the heartless and brutal Niall Horan.

                I glared at her a moment more before turning away and walking over to my dresser. I grabbed a new shirt and some jeans and set the down. I then pulled a key out of my pocket and unlocked the top drawer.

                My fingers grazed the small leather journal that hasn’t been touched in years. Memories and nightmares, like there’s much of a difference, flooded back to me as I inhaled sharply and closed my eyes. This journal held parts of my life that even I couldn’t bring myself to remember. I gently scooped it into my hand and held it firmly as I opened my eyes to look at it. It was black leather with small bumps coating the cover with a small blood stain on the edge.

                I glanced back into reality from my thoughts and closed the drawer and pulled out the key swiftly. I looked over and saw Nani now back on the bed watching me curiously with semi wide eyes. I looked away and shoved my burnt hand into my pocket and clutched the pocket knife tightly as I quickly walked into the bathroom. I slammed the door and its hinges rattled lightly. I shook my head as I locked the door and sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

                Earlier thoughts of the burn drifted into my mind and I glanced up at the shower faucet dripping slightly. Could I burnt myself again with that and would it feel as satisfying? I shook my head again. I would experiment later; right now I just wanted to get this done quick and easy.

                I opened the journal and took a deep breath as I began scribbling down my dark thoughts onto the white paper. But then suddenly I heard the strangest thing. “Nani what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I shouted from behind the bathroom door.

                She stopped what she was doing and said in a normal voice. “I’m singing…” My mind raced. What the hell was singing? I shook my head and didn’t respond and she soon continued. I realized my heart was racing from the anticipation as it started to calm down. Whatever ‘singing’ was it seemed to be kind of relaxing.

                I mentally slapped myself. Don’t let her trick you Niall! I thought to myself. I tried to block her voice out as I finished my writing. I shut the journal and picked up my pocket knife slowly.

                I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I pressed to blade to my arm near the crease and I pressed a little further as I drew the blade down slowly on my flesh. I winced as blood was slowly drawn to the surface. I held my breath and pushed myself against the wall firmly. Once I got far enough to satisfy, I let out a small gasp and breathed shakily.

                I looked down and saw my journal had fallen open and a drip of blood splattered on the open page. My eyes widened and I jumped up. “Shit!” I yelled as I kicked the journal out of the way. I grunted, wanting to bleed more, but now frustrated at the constant trail of blood. I turned on the sink and ran my arm under the faucet.

“Are you okay in there?” Nani called from the other room, worry obviously filling her voice which only annoyed me more. I would scare her more later and she wouldn’t care about me anymore.

“I’m perfectly peachy!” I yelled with frustration and a hint of sarcasm. I grabbed the knife and threw it as hard as I could into the wall. It landed with a loud Thunk! And I heard a small yelp escape Nani’s mouth from the bedroom and I smirked to myself.

                I looked at the cut on my arm and was thankful I didn’t press to deep or long enough to need stiches. I hated giving myself stitches.

                I turned the water off and blood slowly kept coming but I ignored it now, it would stop eventually. I took off my old black shirt and jeans and put on a long sleeved brown shirt and some dark blue jeans. The blood started to trail down my arm and I smirked darkly to myself with only one thing running through my mind:

I deserved it.