The New Direction - 1D Fanfiction

Chapter 1

"Ouch." I whispered to myself. 

The sharp razor blade slid across my wrist making the blood rise to the cut I had just created. It was the sixth one in the past month. Twelfth grade was almost done and it wasn't going too well, I had gone into a little bit of what some would call others and what I would call distress. I cringed a little when I saw the blood race down my arm and onto my fingertips, this one was larger than the others I felt like I was going to puke. 

Well my story started in grade seven I found out that my mom and dad were doing drugs behind my back. I was over weight my whole life because when I was in grade three I was diagnosed with a metabolism problem so I got made fun of for that all the time. So in grade seven the bullying got really bad where I would go home and cry for hours in my room. I ended up everyday waking up, going to school, then going straight home and staying in my room all night except for when I needed to eat and use the washroom. I started to self harm half way through grade 7, I was never diagnosed with depression because I never talked to anyone about it. But all the signs were there that I was depressed. In grade 8 I started cutting my ankle so no one would see my scars. I stopped self harming in the summer but I was still depressed. In grade 9 after the stress of losing my best friends and starting a new school and all that stuff. I relapsed. I started cutting and am still depressed at points. 

I did stop in grade 10, I stopped everything. Life finally seemed good for once, but then the bullying started up again and the sex rumors were being spread. Everyone hated me, even the people who I thought were my closest friends had abandoned me. All of them except for my best friend, who was more like a sister; Amanda. She stuck around through it all and gave me the best of advice, she would keep me company whenever I was feeling the need to cut. But thanks to her I stopped. All until now, the rumors were getting more and more personal and sexual. There was nothing I could do to stop it, all of the popular girls called me "fat", "worthless", "un-loved", and "loser". I tried to tell myself that none of it was true but as the gruesome days went on and on I started to believe it. That is when I started cutting again, none of Amanda's advice made sense and it didn't make me feel better like it used to. 

Sighing as well as whimpering a little, I dragged the razor across my wrist once more. The blood from the new and the older cut mixed together and fell off my fingertips and into the sink. I rinsed off my wrist and cleansed the cuts I made, I may be a cutter but I didn't want anything to get infected. My shoulder length, black hair came in front my face; I sighed, swept it behind my ears and grabbed the disinfectant.