Be My Dandelion

Unit A: Subsection 16

!!! (for the italicized part)

Louis was diagnosed with depression when he was a teen. At first nobody noticed anything, they did not pay attention to the symptoms. They didn't notice Louis pushing them away. They didn't notice Louis being disinterested in his daily activities. They didn't notice the changes in his sleeping schedule and his appetite. They didn't notice how he wore long sleeved shirts no matter the weather. They didn't notice anything. It all changed when his mother walked in on him cutting himself, blade in one hand. Louis was off school earlier and didn't lock the bathroom's door since no-one would be home for the next few hours or so. What information had slipped off his mind was that it was his mother's day off work. She tried her best to be as calm as possible, carefully taking the blade off his hand as a tear rolled down her cheek. She helped him clean his wounds up and wrapped them up in a bandage. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to feel something" he said under his breath. "It's okay, my boy. It will be okay" she said wrapping him in her arms the same way she did that night when he was 5 and spoke to her for the very first time. They took him to a therapist and he was soon diagnosed. They all helped him as much as they could and threw out anything he could harm himself with or made sure it was in a safe place.

Louis needed a way out and since he couldn't cut anymore, he started drawing. It was his way to control his thoughts and focus. It was his escape, everything would just stop and he would just be. He was pretty damn good at it, too. He would occasionally draw on his arms near his scars and make something beautiful out of them. Other times he would just write stuff on his wrist or his hand in general because he was forgetful. Music helped with a few exceptions. There were times where he couldn't listen to songs because it was too overwhelming, he'd feel as if he was about to go insane. Other times they didn't help because even with the volume to the max it just wasn't loud enough and Louis didn't know what to do when music couldn't get louder than his thoughts.

Zayn helped, too. Zayn was his escape for so long, his little source of happiness. Zayn made him feel safe and okay. Zayn made him feel . When the drugs and the excessive alcohol consuming started it all went to shit. It made him feel like he was flying and fucked up at the same time. At some point, he even stopped taking his pills. He was a mess, but he didn't acknowledge it. Zayn was with him and so he believed it'd be okay because Zayn cared for him and wouldn't let it get out of hand. He basically trusted him with his health, with his life. Zayn was not aware of that and Louis never bothered to tell him. The numbness would go away when they were high on their couch staring into each other's eyes and seeing eternity in them. But, as mentioned, thanks to Liam all of that (including Zayn) was gone. And Louis was left to pick up the pieces and put them back together whether he liked it or not. He knew he wasn't alone, but it was hard to believe when loneliness was the only thing his broken heart could feel.

"They said he called last minute. He could've died."

That was Liam's voice. Definitely Liam.

Does he open his eyes? Is he supposed to do that?

Oh God, he survived. He's still alive.

He knows he was the one to save himself, but the situation was still embarrassing. He never thought what he would do or what he would even say if he made it out alive. And honestly, he didn't even believe he would make it.

His eyes opened slowly, his eyelids heavy. The sunlight was bursting through the windows, lighting up the entire room.

It didn't take long for the people in the room to notice that he was awake and conscious. They soon started asking him questions, bombarding him with them. He didn't reply to any of them.