Distraction [Zarry]

Chapter Ten

I walked down the hall of my house, just getting off the phone with my mother. I finally told her that I was gay and she was very accepting, I was happy her response wasn't like dad's was. I continued through the house until I met my father in the kitchen, eyes fuming, shooting daggers in to mine. He practically ran over to me and pushed me down, making me hit the floor with a hard thud.

"Did you tell your mom about you?" he asked.

"Ye...yes." I answered him.

"What did she say?"

I sat up, but not getting up from the floor, knowing he would just push me back down.

"She was accepting, and doesn't think any differently of me..." I said flatly, putting my head down.

"Fucking perfect." he spat. "Just fucking perfect. She's okay with having a faggot for a son. What possessed me to marry someone like her?"

"There's nothing wrong with me, dad; and I wish you would just accept who I am." I said, glaring at him.

He then kicked me in the stomach and I hunched into a ball on the floor, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Nothing wrong with you?! My only son, is a fucking faggot. And you don't think there's anything wrong with that?! You disgust me! You're worthless, and I'm ashamed to call you my son!" he said coldly as his foot continued to collide with my ribcage.

I gasped for breath that just wouldn't come, and I silently prayed that something would happen to make him stop. Just leave me here. Each blow hurt more and eventually my vision went black and I called the only person I knew would maybe hear me.

"Harry."

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"Zayn, Zayn wake up!" I heard Harry yelling.

I snapped my eyes open and my breathing was shaky as I tried to recover from my dream.

"Harry." I spoke, my voice cracking.

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my head.

"I'm here. You're okay." he soothed me.

I hated that day. I haven't heard from my mother in six months. Since the day I told her.

"Harry." I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Are you okay, Zayn?" he finally spoke, pulling away.

I nodded and wiped the sweat on my forehead. I hated these stupid fucking dreams. I hated my dad. I hated myself.

I looked at the clock and it said 4:56 am. I wanted to go back to bed but I was sweaty and wanted a shower.

"I'm going to shower." I got up and went into the bathroom.

I shut the door behind me and locked it, wanting to be alone. I opened my bag and got out my shampoo, noticing my blades in the small compartment. This is what I need.

I turned on the shower and got in, the water burning my skin and sank to the floor. I grabbed the blade in my hand and pressed the metal to my wrist, making a slash. I took in a sharp breath, more from relief rather than pain and kept moving the sharp edge across my skin, watching the blood drip from my arm and down the drain. I felt tears streaming down my face, strangled sobs leaving my mouth, I tried to be as quiet as possible so I wouldn't wake Harry. After making a few more cuts I got up and turned off the shower. I stepped out and grabbed a towel off the rack and immediately pressed it to my arm, soaking up the remaining blood. I then dried myself off and put on some boxers and a long sleeve tshirt, making my way back into the bedroom. I found Harry face down with his arms tucked up underneath his pillow, mouth parted, with light snores leaving his mouth. He was just so beautiful. He didn't deserve someone as messed up as me. I got in to bed and couldn't help but stare at how peaceful he looked. I lightly rubbed my thumb across his cheek, feeling a stray tear fall down my face.