ANON. || l.s.

Lost Cause

Thought you had your shit together
But damn, I was wrong
You ain't nothing but a lost cause
And this ain't nothing like it once was
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XX isa

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My reflection in the mirror was the saddest thing I'd seen in ages. A big purple bruise adorned my eye and my split lip was starting to scab. The eye that wasn't coloured purple had a big dark eye bag under it. I tried to ice it as much as I could yesterday, but the bruises painted my face in bright colours. I only slept three hours this night, the pain still lingering in my ribs and my head still pounding. I thought taking a bath was a good idea, but it had only made the pain worse.

I had to be at school in half an hour, but I procrastinated as much as I possibly could. My phone laid beside me on the sink, the short message exchange I had with Zayn opened, taunting my self-confidence. Yesterday he replied with the question where he could pick me up, so we could walk to school together. I ofcourse declined -with my face all bashed in - but he was quite persistent. I comforted myself a bit with the thought that I would see him in History class nonetheless, so it was better to see him beforehand. That way I had a chance to explain why I looked this way.

I pondered whether to use the cliché excuse of falling down the stairs or coming up with a heroic story where I saved an old lady. The latter would probably make a better impression, but it was also more difficult were he to ask for more details. Liam always told me I was a terrible liar, so I wasn't too confident with devising a detailed excuse. I was probably bound to slip up in an indepth story about an old lady being mugged. Or maybe attacked by a dog? Wait no, dogs can't punch. Maybe the lady wanted to punch the dog but instead slipped and hit me?
Fuck it, the stairs it was.

I styled my fringe in front of my bruised eye and lathered my lip in vaseline. Let's hope it wouldn't crack while talking to Zayn. I crept down the stairs as quietly as I could not to wake Father. After he came home yesterday, he sat himself behind the TV again and hadn't looked or exchanged a word with me since. And I wasn't about to start talking to him again today.

I grabbed my bag in the hallway and slid on my coat.
   'Ahum.' Father cleared his throat in the livingroom and I stood frozen. Was that meant for me or did he just have excess flem? Just as I was about to move again he called me over.
   'Louis...'
Reluctantly I moved to the living room and stood in the doorway. We made eyecontact and I saw a glipse of surprise and then remorse cross his face when he saw his damage done.
   'I-...Ehhmm...' He stammered and went quiet for a second, lowering his eyes. 'Have a nice day son..'
I gaped at him in disbelief. I guess he was sorry for his actions.
   'Thanks...'
Our eyes met again and awkwardly we looked at each other. I gestured at the door. 'I- I have to go, I'm gonna be late.'
   'Yeah...alright...'
Then I got out of there as fast as I could.

   'Jezus Christ, what happened to your face?!'
   'Ehm...Hi.'
Zayn stood on the corner of my street, inhaling deep on his cigarette. I felt a little ache in my soul when I saw the resembles between him and Liam. God, I missed him.

I joined Zayn and shoulder to shoulder we walked. I felt his eyes studying my face. I just kept quiet, suddenly aware of how awkward this was.

   'No seriously, what happened? Do I need to ruff someone up for you?'
I just shrugged, but winced at the feeling the movement send to my ribs. I tried to play the pain down as much as I could. 'Nothing serious. I fell down the stairs.'
Zayn looked at me and shook his head. 'Bullshit.'