Blood, Fur, Fangs, And Love

Nothing

WARNING - GRAPHIC CONTENT THAT CONTAINS SELF INFLICTED HARM

That's it, Nothing. I don't do anything but go to class, once again things have changed. It's the class I might be able to let things out and have something feel or express my pain. Art. I walk in and see everyone sitting at their spots. Mine was by Zayn, he smiles as I sit down. I don't care for people to know my secret because I pull up my sleeves. Zayn looks at me in shock and shifts uncomfortably. I ignore the looks I get because of the white bandages on my arms. So I just adjust the beanie on my head and get ready to work.

The class all settles as our teacher enters the room. She also spots the white material on me. She looks concerned but I don't mind. She steps to the front of the art room and gets our attention.

"This week we will be drawing and a small time painting. I know a few weeks ago we did painting but you can never have enough practice. The theme for your pieces should be a tale of 'You and I'. And by that I mean you must create a story that will be expressed through art, of you and someone. It can be a family member, boyfriend, girlfriend, or even just a made up person. I want it to show or represent something that is present or was present at the time. This will be due in a few weeks. And I plan on this being a three part project." She then walks back to her desk in the corner of the room by the door.

I get out my sketch book, like everybody else. This is something I can do, maybe it'll help. I think about what I could do, I have so many things I could do. I first thought about my sisters and parents, that was so long ago though. Then Eleanor and Christina, my new family. And I also thought about Harry.

'Why does it always have to be about Harry?' I ask myself. 'Why does he rule my world that is crushed and crumbling?'

I don't know, is the only thing that can be said. Nothing, nothing at all matters to me. The stares I get from the pain I inflicted on myself, and the why I treat them. I have flipped off already a total of three people in the matter of an hour. Once in the hallway and twice at a boy who keeps staring at my arms.

'Fuck you!'

I want to say but I don't. Looking up at the clock, I've been standing here talking to myself for almost ten minutes. Maybe the teacher would let me do a spin off of Titanic? I'd be Jack and he'd be Rose.

'No! Stop it you fucked up piece of shit!'

I flinch a little when I hear those words in my head. I look around and everyone is at work. Zayn is already half way down with his first piece. Peering over his shoulder I see a beautiful picture. It's of a boy in the distance who is in the rain with a single rose in his hand. A girl ahead of him is standing under an umbrella. She has on all black and blonde almost white like hair. Perrie. In the middle of her chest is a broken heart and one tear is on her cheek.

'That will never be you.'

Turning back to my sketch book, I put it aside. I pick up a canvas and my backpack and walk over to the teacher and ask to go to the bathroom. She looks up and sees the canvas in my hand, she asks what for.

"You have to trust me when I say I'm doing something great. And I'll be fine." I tell her and she looks at my wrist.

"Are you going to..."

"Yes." I already know what she was asking.

"Louis I don't know if you should do that, it can be dangerous and I could-"

"It's fine, trust me." I interrupt her. She looks at me and sighs. "I will do it either way, you won't be able to stop me at home."

She nods and looks around the room. Nothing more is said when she hands me the keys. I give myself ten minutes, and that's it. I walk out of the room, I look down at the keys. Thank god she gave me the keys to the teacher's restroom. I knock on the door and wait. When no one answers I unlock the door and walk in. Putting the canvas on the ground I pull a knife out of my back pack. I carefully undo my bandages and throw them out.