(A.N./ Trigger warning for this chapter. I'm warning you in advance. Thank you so much for reading my story!)
*Louis' POV*
We walked out of the little café, and towards Liam's car. I climbed into the front seat while Niall and Zayn got into the backseat. I was slightly shaking, trying to hide it by clasping my hands in my lap, but it didn't do much help. Because Zayn noticed. "Lou, what's wrong? Why are you shaking so badly?" I took a deep breath before answering. "I'm just nervous as to what your guys' reactions will be to what I have to tell you." I say. My voice shaking as I speak. I notice so the others must to. Niall rubbed my shoulder sympathetically, and said, "What ever it is Lou, we wont judge you. Right boys?" Liam and Zayn nodded in agreement. By now we had reached Liam's flat. We all piled out of the car, and headed toward the front door. Liam pushed the door open and I told the three of them to go sit in the living room. "I'll be in in a minute guys." I said walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I gulped the entire thing down within seconds. I sighed to myself and walked toward the living room. I cleared my throat, to get the boys attention, seeing as they were all looking the other direction, out the window. They were looking at the rare sunshine we had here in England. I rubbed my forearms, that were covered by the long sleeve shirt I wore, despite the unusually warm weather. The boys all looked at me and I started the long, painful story.
*Flashback*
I sigh as my alarm clock went off at six a.m. I had school, great. Another day of torture. I crawled out od bed, me being the thirteen year old, staying up late, as usual, so I didn't want to get up to go to hell. I walked to my closet and grabbed a pair of bright red chinos and a white t-shirt with blue stripes. I walked into my en-suite bathroom, and took a quick shower. Getting out of the shower I dried my soaking body, and quickly getting dressed. Seeing as I had to walk an hour to school, because my parents would give me a ride because they didn't want my bisexualness to infect my little sisters. They didn't love me anymore, but wouldn't kick me out because they wanted everyone to thing we were the picture perfect family. After I had dressed, I packed my school bag, walked to the door and slipped on my falling apart TOMs. I sighed as I walked out of the front door, looking at my watch. It read, 7:19A.M. "Fuck" I mumbled and started running. The bell rings in ten minutes, and I can NOT afford to be late. Again. Thankfully, I ran into the main corridor. I walked to my locker, trying my best o ignore the hurtful comments being thrown at me. 'Fag' 'Ugly' 'Whore' I sighed when I saw who was standing by my locker. Stan and his 'gang'. "Well. Well. Well. Look who decided to finally show up." Stan said while grabbing my collar, shoving me into the hard, cold metal of the lockers. He snickered at the pained look on my face, as the bruises from yesterday slammed into the material. He raised his fist and punched me, over and over and over. No one bothered to help the pathetic, bisexual boy. Even teachers just walked by without doing anything. All because Stan's dad was the principal. That was the worst beating I had ever got. That was the day I finally snapped. I believed everything that he and his gang said. I believed that I was an idiotic, stupid little, faggot. Later that day was the first time I self-harmed my self. The harming went on for about three years. I was sixteen at the time. I had a so called 'boyfriend' turned out it was just a stupid dare. Learn all the pathetic boys personal problems. I should have noticed that he didn't really like me, let alone love me. It was the winter ball. Oh what a mistake it was, going I mean. It was time to announce king and queen. He said he had a speech to give. He walked up and tapped the microphone. He told everyone that my parents' had disowned me when I was twelve. He told them that I selfharmed. He told them so so SO much more. Its easy for me to say that, that was the worst night of my entire life. I ran out crying. I ran all the way home. When I got there, everyone was asleep. Or so I thought, my sister Fizzy, was awake. I ran to my room still crying. I sat at my desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. I wrote in neat cursive, Sorry for the mess. I folded it and set it on the desk. I walked to my en-suite bathroom. I pulled my razor out of the drawer and took my dress shirt off. I started on my stomach first, cutting very deep. They started bleeding immediately, the stinging sensation felt amazing. After you could barely see any skin on my stomach, I moved to my thighs. I did the same thing there. By now I was very light headed, so I sat on the toilet lid, and moved to my wrists. I put the razor to the crease in my elbow, on my left arm, and put as much pressure as I could. I did that all the way down to my wrist. I made sure to cut a vein there. By now I was seeing triple, and everything was spinning. I fell and my head made a loud bang when it hit the tile floor. The only problem, I forgot to lock the bathroom door. I was conscious just long enough to see Fizzy push the door open and scream.
*Flashback Over*
By now I had tears streaming down my face, and I rubbed up and down my forearms harder now, feeling the swollen lumps that formed from the pressure I was putting. I took a deep breath, before reluctantly looking up at the boys.
