Silent Cries ☾N.H.S

11| angel wings

❝she had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach,
like when you're swimming and you want to put your feet down on something solid,
but the water's deeper than you think and there's nothing there.❞

A/N: if you want to listen to the playlist for this story, go to my 8tracks @ pretending :--)

☾ 11 ☽

I was lying on my bed, listening to the 1975 blaring from my speakers. Tears were streaming down my face, but I didn't care. Someone sat down on my bed, and pushed my hair into my eyes.

"Your weaknesses were showing." His raspy voice flooded my ears; my gaze flickered over to the wild haired boy.

I said, "You make me feel like I'm going insane in the membrane."

He chuckled and laid back with me. "Did Niall paint that up there?" He pointed at the 'you are so lovely' painted up on the ceiling.

I pushed my hair back in place with my hand. "Yah."

He stared incredulously up there. He said, "How the fuck do you suppose he got up there?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean ghosts can't levitate? I thought he flew up there or something."

He laughed, even his laugh was raspy and prolonged. "No, he probably put a chair on your desk, that sneaky little fuck."

We fell into silence.

He turned towards me. "So, tell me about your tattoo."

In shock, I looked over at him and slapped my hand over his mouth. He laughed again and said, "Your mom and sister are downstairs. Calm down, love."

I grabbed his black t shirt in my hands angrily. "How do you know that I have a tattoo."

He threw up his hands in innocence. "I saw it when we were taking a shower together."

I clenched my fists. "We were not taking a shower together, Walter."

He smirked. "Yes, we were."

"No, we weren't." I gritted my teeth.

"Yes." He put his finger up to my face and twirled it around.

"No." I was about to twirl my finger in his face to see if he liked being called crazy, but I accidentally jabbed him in the eye instead.

"Ah, fuck." He held his eye in pain, and then proceeded to poke me in my left eye.

"Ow!" I cupped my hand over my eye. He quickly grabbed my wrist and pointed.

"You see, this tattoo." He pointed at the tattoo on my left wrist.

"Oh, this tattoo." I decided to shrug it off, but he still held tight to my arm.

"What does it mean?" He asked.

"None of your goddamn business." I yanked my wrist away.

"Please?" He pouted, but I ignored him.

"Please!" He grabbed my wrist and started examining the tattoo.

"Humph. I got matching tattoos with Niall- he was old enough, but I had to forge my parents signature since I wasn't. It's a tattoo of stars and the moon, and these lines right there are in honor of those who self harmed," I said.

On my left wrist was a tattoo of a moon with little stars peppered around it, and a few faint horizontal lines beneath the moon and stars I had asked the tattoo artist to make, in honor of those who self harmed.