Zayn’s P.O.V.
4:35 p.m.—Friday—February 1, 2013
I was inconsolable. Harry hadn’t talk to me still, and the only people left to be with me were Louis and Niall. I hadn’t seen Liam’s face for an entire week. He wasn’t in our lessons, he wasn’t anywhere. I had asked some of the nuns, but they all gave me the same answer, “It’s none of your worry Mr. Malik.”
But it was. I loved him. And every day we were away from each other was like a knife was being plunged deeper and deeper into my heart. I couldn’t take it. It was recreation time, but I didn’t care. I ran down to Mr. Wilson’s office and barged in.
“Mr. Malik,” He said, looking up from his paper work, “Can I help you?”
“Where’s Liam?” I asked, anger surging through me. This was the man that took Liam away from me. This was the man who thought it was bad to be gay. My heart ached and my stomach twisted.
“Zayn, have a seat,” He said calmly.
“No!” I yelled, refusing to sit. I slammed my hands down on my desk. I had so much trouble controlling my anger, in any situation. And even though I knew I should be controlling myself better, I just couldn’t. They took away my Liam.
“Mr. Malik,” He said firmly, standing to meet my gaze, “Liam was not responding to any help here. We sent him away. He will be back in one week from today, February 8th. Then he will be put back into normal schooling and will return to the normal dormitory.”
My heart pounded in my chest, “Where did you send him?”
“That’s none of your business,” He said, sitting back down, “You may go now Mr. Malik.”
I took all of my effort to pull myself from the room. Where did they send Liam? Why were they letting him come back and join the dorm again? What was going on? My heart still ached and I suddenly felt like throwing up. I groaned and grabbed my stomach, climbing the wooden and creaking stairs, all the way to the dorm. I crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling, holding my stomach. I glanced over to Liam’s broken mattress, looking at the spring that was sticking out, and thinking about all the trouble I had gotten us in. Was this really my fault? Harry had been right. I has caused this. But I couldn’t stay away. Liam was my baby. Liam is my world.
Looking at Liam’s bed reminded me of my first day here, when I sat and watched him read. I scanned the area, looking for his books, but not finding any. Then I remembered, Griffin still had them. I felt an idea come to me, and I smiled.
I would retrieve Liam’s books, and have them waiting for him when he got back. It would be the best I’m sorry/Welcome Home/ I love you present ever. He would be overjoyed. I hopped up and got started right away. I needed to get all of them, even if it meant getting in a bit of a fight with Griffin. It would be worth it.
Liam’s P.O.V.
I was in a foster home. Here, it was simple. I had fake brothers who would beat the shit out of me if I looked at them too long. The parents were fine, I guess, but they were homophobes, and were constantly reminding me why I was disgusting. They continued with the flash cards. I don’t know what the whole purpose of them was, but my answers had been changing. Because if I answered incorrectly, I would receive a smack to the cheek. It was like electro-shock therapy that they used to use on crazy people. Or one of those old crazy techniques.
“Alright Liam, what do you think of when you see this?” My foster mom asked, holding up a picture of a heart. My mind was fighting to think of Zayn, but I wouldn’t let it. My mind was changing, morphing to fit what these people thought was right, and I hated it.
“L-Love,” I mumbled. I received a smile, and then the next card, two men kissing. My heart pounded. I wanted to say love. I wanted to believe that I could think that it was love, because it was love, wasn’t it? My body began to tremble. “U-uh…”
“Liam,” My foster dad said.
I swallowed, and then ran my hands over my head, “B-bad,”
I didn’t mean it, did I? What was wrong with me? What were they doing to me? What about…what about Zayn? Didn’t I love him?
The next card: A guy and a girl kissing.
“N-Normal,”
Then the next card: Zayn.
I couldn’t do it. I know they wanted me to say something normal, like, ‘friend’ or ‘Zayn’. But I wanted to say Love. I wanted to scream it. I loved Zayn. But now, with them looking at me, threatening to strike, I couldn’t decide what I would actually say.
“L-Love,”
Shit. I didn’t mean to say that, it just slipped out. Suddenly I felt an intense pain spread across my right face, and then again, and again. When my foster dad finally pulled away, I knew my nose was bleeding, and I could tell you that I would have a wide array of bruises there tomorrow.
“Try again,” My foster mum said.
“I-It’s Z-Z-Zayn…” I stuttered, tears pouring down my face, “J-Just Zayn,”
“Good,”
Then they left me in the room alone.
What were they turning me into? What were they doing to me?
_____________________________________________________________________
This chapter is sad and short...
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Rising Up From Ruin - Ziam (AU)
FanfictionHarry, Louis, Liam, and Niall have all lived at St. Xavier's House for Homeless Boys since they were young. With only one year left until they are allowed to leave, a new addition comes to the orphanage. His name is Zayn Malik. Kids spread rumors ab...
