One Direction Fanfiction (On Hold)

Broken Home

WARNING: If this could be triggering to you, do not read it!

They would yell, they would scream, they were fighting it out
She would hope, she would pray, she was waiting it out
Holding onto a dream
While she watches these walls fall down
Sharp words like knives, they were cutting her down
Shattered glass like the past, it's a memory now
Holding onto a dream
While she watches these walls fall down

Jessica closed her bedroom door and leaned her back against it, trying to drain out the sound of her parent's fighting. Tears were already rolling down her cheeks. She was already insanely stressed, but this horrifying sound, this disaster, only made it worse.

This will pass, she attempted to convince herself, but the innermost part of her still knew it was a lie.

She didn't care. She dragged herself onto the bed and pulled out her journal.

There was nobody to talk to about this. It was lonely, so lonely. The only way she could get past the rough spots was to pour her heart out onto the blank pages that begged her for words, for feelings, for company--and she wasn't about to let it down.

She pulled out her light blue pen and laid across her bed, scribbling loopy words over the thin coco-colored pages.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Mum and dad are in another war. Again. It has to end. It has to. I don't know what'll happen if it doesn't. It's getting desperate. I'm praying every night now. Just waiting...

Waiting is tedious. It's draining. I feel like a water balloon, poked with a needle; every day a bit of water leaks out, and I cling to the water that's left. The water is... Well, everything. My hope, my life, my parent's unity, their love--everything. If it were to run out...

It can't run out. If it runs out there will be no relief.

Jess drops her pen at the memory of her 'relief'.

***

She was in the bathroom, washing her hair with shampoo. She reached her hand out originally for the soap, but something else caught the edge of her eye.

The pink handle of her razor stuck out like it was the only thing in the room.

She felt like it was calling her, begging her.

"Take me," it whispered. "You know you want to. I'll help. Just try me. Just once. I won't leave you. I promise."

Her hand moved toward it. Her heart sped up.

What am I doing?

Tears invited themselves to appear in her eyes. They blended in with the shower though, and it's not like her crying was scarce anymore.

Her fingers wrapped themselves around the handle.

"I'll help...Just once...I won't leave you..."

As if under a spell, her hand moved until she felt the cold blade press itself against the skin of her forearm.

She concentrated on the shower wall before her, the solitary drops of water beating against it. She traced the path of one drop in particular, slowly making its curvy journey down to the bottom of the tub, then under her, then down the drain.