My fault - His fault

Red

I go into the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Once I get out I dry off and put on a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt.

I turn and look at myself in the mirror and hated what I saw, thin pale face, rid rimmed eyes and a black heart.

My hand grips the razor tightly, I stare at it. Was this really what I wanted? Did I really want to do it? Sometimes... It was yes, at other times though... It was no. Right now? I wasn't sure. Would I feel better afterwards? Most definitely yes.

Decision made, I sit on the floor and place the cold metal against my soft skin. I pull it across slowly. It slices my skin and I watch, mesmerised, at the trail it leaves.
There's no going back now.

One, two, three, four

I watch the droplets of blood fall from my wrist and stain the white tiled floor.

Five, six, seven, eight

I can feel a slight sting where the razor left it's mark. It's not important, my concentration stays on the blood.

Nine, ten, eleven, twelve

I feel, free. Something I haven't felt for a long time. All the anger, stress, pain from the past few months is gone.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen

I move the razor to my other wrist

Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty

I pull it across, more blood flows out.

Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four,
Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight

I lean back against the wall, letting it's cold seep though my clothes. Freezing my skin. I suddenly feel very tired.

The blood has formed a small puddle around me, it's growing steadily. Only now does it hit how much there actually is.

By now I'm to weak to do anything. I begin to get light-headed and my vision begins to go black. My eyelids begin to flutter shut.
I'm so tired

I'm not sure how long I've been in here, but I know it's been a while.

As my vision completely fades, I wonder, Is this it? Is this where it all ends for me? I'm to far gone to care. It's better this way. No-one will have to put up with the guy who killed his best friend and band mate.

When it arrives, I can barely hear the knock on the door. Even with my seances fading, the knocking gets louder and louder. I think I hear voices yelling but I can't make out the words and even if I could, I wouldn't have the strength to respond.

I'm so sorry Harry is my last conscious thought before I fade into oblivion

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"If your so worried about him, why don't you go check up on him?" Zayn asks Liam, who had been fretting about the amount of time their friend had been spending in the shower.

Personally Zayn thought Liam was being stupid, if their roles were reversed he would spend more time in the shower too. Zayn reasoned they didn't have very good showers in prison.

Liam took Zayns advice and sprinted to the bathroom. Tentatively, he knocked on the door.

There was no reply.

Liam banged on it a little louder.

Still no reply.

Liam began to panic. He kept banging, louder and louder. He called out to his friend, willing him to reply.

Nothing

Zayn rolled his eyes when he heard Liam's loud knocking. However when Liam started yelling, he grew a little worried.

He walked quickly to the bathroom, not worried enough to sprint there, but still worried enough to move at a quick speed.

He was met with a frantic, teary eyed Liam. Zayn's worry only grew.

Zayn grabbed the hysterical Liam and pulled him away from the door. Once Liam was a safe distance away Zayn rammed into it.

"Niall" Zayn yelled in horror when he eventually broke through it. "Oh my God!"

Zayn swallowed the bile in his throat and grabbed two towels off the towel rack and pressed them against Niall's cuts.

"Liam!" Zayn screamed "Call 999! Niall's not breathing"