The escape - Larry Stylinson (AU)

Chapter 3

So hello my little freaks c:

Here is my third chapter. I know it is short but I really wanted to update :)

I’m ashamed :( I'm really sorry. 

I want to say thank you to everyone who read my story and commented my chapters :D

so this chapter is dedication to carrotangel, boobearforever2012 and sushisandboys. Thank you so much lovelies :-*

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Louis' POV

I woke up because I was so cold and I was shivering really bad. I’m going to die in this alley. I’m going to die in this alley. But  no, I didn’t want that. I knew I deserved it but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Maybe my father wasn’t hat home? Or maybe he passed out on the couch? Oh god what should I do?

Then I saw it. It was lying on the floor. It was shining and glittering, it came from the now rising sun. I slowly crawled closer to the shining piece it was a piece of a broken glass bottle. I slowly grabbed it and closed my hand around it. I knew there is only one thing I knew I had to do. I did it since I was 12 years old. I was a fucking kid. I remembered that day clearly, like it was yesterday.

The first cut of so many.

*Flashback*

“You worthless piece of shit.” My father yelled. “Where are you, fag?!” I was only 12 years old and so terrified I was hiding in my closet. I was so scared I didn’t even dare to make a sound.

“I HATE YOU! You are a worthless, ugly, fat, pathetic and disgusting waste of space. YOU MURDERER!”

I kept quiet but the tears were rushing down my face. I heard the door slammed shut. And he drove away with the car. I crawled out of my hiding spot and the sobs were wrecking though my body. I felt so much mental pain.

I once read about cutting in school. About how bad self-harming is and that it will only cause more problems. But the people who did it said it helped.

Could it really help?

Or will it get worse?

Could I even get worse?

I went in my father’s bathroom and stole a new razor blade from his drawer. I went back to my room and locked the door. I went to my bathroom and slid down the wall. The tears never stopped to fall from my eyes. It was like a waterfall which will never ever stop.

I put the blade against my wrist.

I had a mental battle in my head. Should I really do it?

//Come on fag ! Just do it already.//

I bit my lip really hard and pressed in in my flesh and slide it across my wrist. I gasped and screamed because the pain was unbelievable. I bit harder on my lip till I could taste the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. The blood ran down my hand and dropped by my fingers on the floor. It was fascinating to see the red liquid against my sun kissed skin. I was for the first time ever able to control my own pain. I was able to put my mental pain into physical pain. I knew that this night will change my live forever.

*flashback end*

I looked back at the glass in my hand. The dirty piece of glass looked sick yet beautiful in my eyes. Everyone would throw it away but for me it looked fascinating. I loved the cold against my skin and the dangerous sharp edge of the glass. I knew it wasn’t OK to cut but it was the only thing I knew.

The only thing I knew how to deal with my feelings.

The only thing I knew how to deal with my father.

The only thing I knew how to deal with the bulling from my ex-best friend.

The only thing I knew how to deal with the voice in my head.

I pressed the cold sharp piece against my skin.

I loved that feeling.

I loved the control.

I loved the pain.

I loved to watch the pure red liquid to run out of the clear cut.

I loved the difference between my sun kissed skin and the dark blood.

OH how I loved it. It was the only thing that kept me alive. I made 10 new cuts on my right wrist and 10 new cuts on my left wrist. Slowly I began to feel light-headed and dizzy. My eyelids began to feel very heavy. I heard footsteps come near me. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, with the first real smile since years on my lips I felt into a welcomed darkness.

When I woke up again. I was still alone. Was I going to get insane? I clearly remembered to hear footsteps before I passed out. I looked down on my once bleeding wrists and I saw that my cuts were bandaged.

What the fuck?!

When did that happened? I knew that I sliced my wrists open but I also knew that I clearly didn’t clean it or bandaged it. Someone was hear and … helped me? NO, it wasn’t possible. No, it couldn’t be. No one would ever help me. I am just a worthless fag who should better be dead.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HAPPENING?!?!?!?!?!

My mind was wandering around. Who would help me? Why would someone help me? Maybe I was going insane? Yeah my mind was playing tricks with me? But why are there bandages on my forearm? I literally had no fucking idea. I felt my head began to hurt really bad. Fucking Shit!

I stand up and stretched myself. Everything hurt so fucking bad! I made my way home because I knew that my father wouldn’t be at home. He was at work, hopefully.

I slowly opened the front door. It was silent and empty. THANKS GOD! I went to my room. On the floor was still blood from the beating. I took a deep breath and walked in the bathroom. Glass was shattered, the mirror was still broken and even the sink was still red from my blood. Everything was a bloody mess. I stepped carefully around the glass and made my way to the shower. I quickly hopped in and the warm water relaxed my sore muscles. It felt like heaven!

I stepped out and dressed myself in a pair of black boxers and my favourite pair of Pj’s. I quickly cleaned all the mess up and made my way to bed. I didn’t forget to lock my door. As my head hit the pillow I felt in a dreamless sleep.