They let me live [One Direction fanfic] COMPLETED!

Today I am 1 year clean from self-harm.

How did I do it? I ask myself this question everyday.

But the question is, how did they do it?

How did those five boys choose me over every other girl in the world, how did they drag me out of my hole of depression and hate against everything?

And the question is, why would they bother?

I was a wreck, my whole life had been one big mess that hundreds of therapists tried to make me forget- of course, they failed.

But these five boys didn't.

They won completely, I am so glad that I got the chance to live a little before today came.

They were my angels on earth and now i will be theirs from the clouds.

I'm sitting in the cafe where we met just now, they don't know I'm here, their probably still asleep. I hope they are.

1 year ago today I was sitting facing the old painting of grapes, very detailed purple grapes. I would stare at the painting everyday here, when I wasn't at my house caring for my alcoholic father. I starred at that painting before I had Niall's eyes to stare into and Harry's hands to hold and Louis hugs and Zayn's soft kisses and Liam's comforting advice that would always silence the demons in my head.

That would always silence the demons in my head.

When Harry first saw the scars on my arm when I'd confidently decided to wear a short sleeved top to bed and some shorts, he simply walked over to me, looked into my eyes holding my chin and told me

"You're beautiful, and you were still beautiful when you did this" then he picked up my arm and gestured to my scars, not looking at them as if they were ugly, but they were just a memory written on my body.

When Liam first found me crying on the living room floor, with my laptop full of messages by my side. Horrible, horrible messages. He joined me, he sat down next to me and held me, letting tears of his own past wet my shoulders.

"It's jealousy, and because you will always be more successful and-" he started, then carefully said the next words pushing the hair away from my face "and more beautiful then them, it probably won't stop. But we are here now".

Then when Zayn walked in on me with my head in the toilet after a meal, he just came, pulled me into him and stroked my back, with water framing his eyes.

"You just can't see how truly beautiful you are, can you?" He said, his accent revealing itself more.

Louis invited me on a walk up some hills on the day of my mothers anniversary of when she'd died in a car crush. He held me too, just held me. But that's all I needed. Him holding me, looking out at the sun going down, the sky tinted pink.

"You're mum was clearly an amazing woman if she created you, and she'll always be with you- right now, you're here with us. And we're strong."

That's all he needed to do to make me feel safe without my mother as my armour.

But Niall, he found me. He found me when I was standing on the bridge down the road when I didn't meet them here at the cafe early on in our relationship.

That day was almost as beautiful as this one, the sun was out and the birds woke me up. On the bridge, the wind danced with my hair along to the passing cars below, and I needn't bother crying when the air was so sharp it picked away at the outlines of my eyes. Causing a nice pain...

"I've been here before" Niall's fingers interlocked around mine which were on the fence.

"Oh yeah, it's pretty up here" I replied, disappointed he was delaying my plans.

"No, emotionally I have been here" he continued, both of us kept our eyes on the trees in the far distance.

"Niall, I just like the view" I lied.

"The view of everyone else's smiles from your fake one? Yeah, that view is great" he joked, pulling for my other hand and pulling my body into his. I rested my head into his shoulder and he just told me to breath, because I am alive, and being alive is a very good thing to be.

He was right, being alive was a very good thing to be, I don't understand how he planted that idea into my head but I wasn't going to believe a lie could come out of that Irish accent and blue eyes.




A month ago I was told I would die today, and so I will after I finish my hot chocolate. Hot chocolates are my favourite, me and Louis used to have races to see who could finish them first, we'd both be speaking with a burnt swollen tongue for the rest of the day.

I am not scared to die, because I lived.

After years of deciding I would never smile again, I smiled.

After years of deciding what they said was true, I didn't feel worthless.

After years of neglecting mirrors, I sang on a stadium stage in front of thousands of cameras.

After years of missing my sunshine, five stars came.

After everything, I wanted to take my next breath, and the next one.

I lived, I had good times and bad and met some incredible people and inspired many more.

Wouldn't I want to reach my twentieth birthday?

Of course.

But today is such a beautiful day to die.

Die being a word used too negatively, I am going to go home.

Today another angel will go home.

My hot chocolate is finished now, I guess my taxi will be waiting outside.

I am going to love you and leave you.

I'm glad they put the grape painting back up in that dusty corner this morning.