Migraine [louis-centric]

Chapter 4

Louis P.O.V

I got up around one, lucky we had a day off. I checked my phone, a few twitter and Instagram notifications, the usual. But no texts or missed calls, nothing at all. I felt upset and hurt as a few tears rolled down, Ughh I'm such a cry baby. I tried to hold it in, but the silent tears turned into sobs, it hurts so much how one minute you're on top of the world and happy, then you're all alone, in the dark waiting for death to take you.I really don't know where I went wrong, I wish someone would tell me. 

I can't carry on like this for too long, knowing nobody cares. I always get so much hate , but when people closest to you hate you, its like a bee sting not treated. Everyone hates me, my mom, my siblings, my 'friends', everyone!

Slowly getting up, I walk over to the bathroom, looking at myself. I pick out every flaw I can see, from my ratty face to my fat body. And all over again, I'm crying. I'm so weak, so sensitive, such a weakling. I pick out a box filled with cotton and dig through it. When I find what I was looking for, I slowly strip and draw angry red slashes on my hips and inner thighs. I don't stop until i'm covered in blood. I do this all in the bathtub so I won't have to clean up.

Smart, aren't I?

I take a bath quickly, watching the red liquid flow down the drain. I get dressed in the most comfortable clothes I can find. I have to have my suppressants, can't let the world know that I'm an omega. 

I ignore the slight grumble in my stomach or the the pain between my eyes. I sit on my couch, closing my eyes. I pick up my phone a few minutes later, and just stare at the contact number. Harry's number. I debate whether to call him or not. Maybe I'll call him over and just enjoy company. I call him, but after a few rings it goes to voicemail. I cut the call. Of course they wouldn't pick up. Nobody likes an asshole, but I don't wanna be an asshole, don't wanna be an omega, don't wanna pretend to be a beta, don't wanna be a fukboi, I just wanna be loved and cared for. Someone to hold me at night and listen to me talk random shit in wee hours of the morning.  Is that too much to ask for? I guess so.

I miss the early days into the fandom, where I didn't have to pull of this facade, when people still liked me, when someone actually gave a flying shit about me. Those were days man. 

I just think until darkness consumes me as I fall as sleep into a dreamless slumber,  side effect of the pills.

A.N: sorry for the wait and thanks for voting, reading or commenting. I'll try and update every Friday :)

Even more sorry for the short chapter, I'm shit at writing long ones. Not edited as usual.