White Lines. ll in editing. ll

'I'll be Coming Back For You'

Hii guise c; This is just an idea of mine! I don’t know if I’ll continue it or not. I know it is very depressing in the beginning. It won’t always be this depressing. I hope you like <3 Check out what Ari's wearing by clicking the link in the comments! Vote, comment & fan! Thanks. -Katie 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deep breathe in. Deep breathe out. Calm down. 

I clenched my fists but instead of throwing something like I wanted too, I pulled out my MacBook and went straight to YouTube. I typed "Forever Young One Direction" and waited for it to load. 

"Let's dance in style, lets dance for a while..." Liam's voice coursed through my ears, reminding me of when my brother used to sing to me, before he went on X Factor. 

Already I was calming down. 

"Are you gonna drop the bomb or not?" 

My fists un-balled and I let out a sigh. My temper had been like this lately. I'd get so mad,  one thing after another and curses were flying out of my mouth and I wanted to throw something or punch something. I know, it's like Harry from Dark. Only I'm a girl. And I'm most certainly not dating Harry Styles. 

"Some are like water some are like heat, some are the melody and some are the beat." Niall's solo made a smile rise to my face as I assessed myself in the mirror.

My mascara and eye liner had run, and my brown curls were in desperate need to be put up in a bun. Not too bad, I though as I messily put my hair up and wiped the black from under my eyes. 

"And diamonds are forever..." Harry's soothing voice filled the room. 

I laid back on my bed and stared at the ceiling, listening to the melodic voices of my boys. 

------

I woke up the next morning sprawled out in the middle of my bed, on top of my duvet as Forever Young continued to play. 

I wiped the sleep out of my eyes  and walked to the bathroom to take a shower. 

Only a couple minutes later, as I was stepping out of the shower I heard voiced downstairs. 

"Ari!" A strong Wolverhampton accent call out.

Liam was home? Already? 

I smiled as I wrapped the towel tightly around my torso. 

"Be right down Li!" I yelled back, rushing to get dressed.

I threw on my faded and ripped dark skinny jeans and a grey Ed Sheeran crew-neck sweatshirt. I put my hair up in a cute messy bun and put on some chap-stick. Screw makeup, it's Liam! Smiling I threw my towel on the floor and ran down stairs to see my older brother whom I'd desperately missed.

I turned the corner into our large kitchen only to see Liam & Danielle kissing on the couch. 

I quickly turned on my tracks and races back upstairs. They were too caught up in the kiss to even notice. Don't get me wrong, I love Danielle like my sister, but I hate how pretty she is. I always feel so ugly around her. 

When I got to my room I pulled out my makeup bag and began my magic. I put on primer, foundation, powder, eye-liner, mascara and lipgloss before I thought I looked presentable. 

When I still didn’t hear Liam call me down, I figured he was still wrapped up in Danielle. I sighed and sat on my black futon, just thinking.

My life, in the past two-years, has spiraled down-hill. It was just so hard without Liam around. Liam was the best older brother I could have asked for. When I was down, Liam could always cheer me up. Whether is was singing, letting me whoop his butt in Mario Kart, watching Toy Story or going out for a fun Liam & Ari day, I was never sad around him. When it was my time of the month, Liam always brought me chocolate and rented romance movies for me. {Hey, don’t judge}. Liam even threatened to knock some sense into Thomas in the fifth grade when he told me he didn’t like my haircut. Nowadays, Liam is hardly ever around. And when he is, its not like it was before. He’s, I don’t know, different. Its not in a bad way. He’s just not the same. 

In those past two years, so much changed with me. With Liam gone, it became so easy to feel down. There was nobody there to pick me up when I felt like that, I grew sort of accustomed to the feeling. It became so easy to look at other girls and wonder why I wasn’t as pretty, why I wasn’t as funny, why I wasn’t as skinny, or why I wasn’t as good at flirting as they were. It became easy to wonder why I didn’t have guys wrapped around my finger like other girls at my school did. Why I was seventeen and I didn’t even have a boyfriend. In fact, no guys ever texted me. Not many guys talked to me. I wasn’t popular. Even my friends got sick of me sometimes. All of these thoughts flowed through my mind all day. I mean, I wasn’t always like this. I was really happy at times too, usually with my friends, doing god knows what. Whenever I was home, is when a lot of stuff sunk in. The facts of life. 

Sometimes I felt like no mater what I did, I couldn’t do anything about it. I was never in control of a lot of things. I ate too much. I couldn’t help it. I was awkward. I tried to change but I couldn’t. The one thing I had control of were the cuts on my wrist. It was something I wasn’t proud of at all. But I was in control. I had stopped cutting often six months ago, in fear of people noticing my scars and judging me. That’s the last thing I needed. I always almost wore an arm-full of bracelets every-day or long sleeves. The lines on my arms were simply scars now. Plain white lines. Reminders of my past. Except for about two or three, from a day or two ago. 

Two years ago, if you told me my life would end up like this, I’d laugh in your face. Two years ago I was a happy, care-free girl. I had tons of friends and nothing got to me. As these two years has gone to me, things have slowly begun to break down my walls and get to me. I’ve slowly changed, and not for the good. 

I’m scared that Liam will notice. He knows me better than anybody else. I’d never want to disappoint him.

I lifted my sleeve to examine my arm. Both arms had about ten scars on them. Most of them were just plain white lines scattered across my wrists. 

“Ari?” I heard Liam call.

I quickly jumped up, pulling my sweatshirt over my arms, examine my face in the mirror one more time before going downstairs.