Burgundy

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A/N:
This is my first time writing a fanfic:)
I'm sorry if the writing is absolute shit. I've never been good at English class, anyways
enjoy!! Also sorry if my layout is shit

TW// self harm, abuse, eating disorders, depression, thoughts of suicide

(Through out the whole book)
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LOUIS' POV:

By this point I've learnt not to cry for help. He doesn't say anything either, he just keeps kicking and punching me. It happens everyday, I come home from that shit show of a school and he's there with a bottle in his hand. Sometimes to start it off he would throw the bottle at me. Just for the fun of it. I just shut my eyes and think back to when mum was alive, it was a happier time. Everyone got along, Mark wouldn't he drunk all the time, Lottie wouldn't hate my guts. Fizzy wouldn't of been mad at me and I wouldn't be such a fuck up. I opened my eyes again to find him passed out on the couch. I slowly got up off the floor (which took a few tries) and made my way upstairs. I didn't need to be careful at this point, if he's passed out he's out for a couple of hours. Hours of silence to me. No old drunk screaming about me being a fuck up.

Once I got upstairs, I made my way towards the bathroom. I locked the door and opened the cupboard to grab the small but useful item. I took a good look at it. Small, shiny, sharp, silver. I sat down against the bathroom wall and pressed the sharp object against my tattooed wrists. The next thing I knew my arms had red liquid pouring out of them. A thick burgundy liquid. I got up off the floor as tears filled my eyes. I went to clean up my throbbing arms. As the water washed the dark liquid off my wrists I looked at myself in the mirror. The tears were gone, I was relieved. I never cry, I made a promise to my mum that I would stay strong for her. My wrists may say otherwise, but as long as I wasn't crying that was enough. I put bandaids over the thin swollen lines and walked out of the bathroom. I rushed over to my room and tried to find a hoodie, I didn't want anyone to see my wrist. If the girls would see them they would either ask too many questions or hate me even more. I walked out of my room and walked back down stairs to the kitchen. Since Mark is an abusive drunk I have to care for my sisters. Which would be easier if I could actually cook something, they always complain about how shit my cooking is and I don't blame them because mum would always cook.

Mark was still passed out on the couch as I walked into the kitchen. Lottie and Fizzy were fighting over god knows what, And the twins were trying to reach the bag of cookies on the top shelf of the cupboard. I laughed a little, it was cute sight. I ran over and picked Phoebe up so she could grab the cookies.

"Thank you Louis" she said with the biggest grin on her face. I instantly smiled.

"Louis what's dinner, we're starving." Lottie said, she seems very pissed off.

I mean Lottie is always mad at me. She thinks it's my fault mum died. I was in the car with her when it crashed. But I swear it's not my fault I told her to watch out for the truck. But that was two years ago, so she shouldn't be angry at me anymore right?

"We got some pot noodle, or Mac and cheese. Your pick girls" I said going through the pantry.

"It's the same thing every night. I want something different" Fizzy whined.

"I'll do groceries tomorrow after school, but this is all we have for now okay?"

"Fine" all the girls in unison.

As I was making the pot noodles for everyone, Mark woke up. We all stopped what we were doing, I pulled the twins close to me. They still don't comprend what he does to me or what being drunk is. All they know is that's he is mean now. The only reason Fizzy knows is because she walked in on Mark kicking the shit out of me. That's also when she stopped being angry at me and blaming me for mums death. I held my breath, along with everyone else. Mark walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of vodka and walked out the front door. We don't ask where he goes, all we know is that he comes home even more drunk than the day before. As soon as he left we continued with what we were doing. I finished up the pot noodles and we all sat down to eat at the table.

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