things i can't (l.s)

Chapter 15

I woke up again after last nights events. I looked at the cuts when I felt them sting under the bandages. They had been bleeding pretty badly. I thought that I'd be able to keep these on, but if I didn't want Louis to suspect anything, then I'd need to replace them before school. They'd leak if I didn't change them, and Louis would be sure to notice. I can't have him thinking I am more of a freak than he already probably does. I decided I should just take a shower. I was up earlier than usual anyways, and that meant I could get rid of last night's food. It wouldn't do anything except make my stomach look less bloated, but I was happy with that at least.

I ripped the bandages off my arm and threw them away. Stripping off my clothes, I looked once into the mirror.

Disgusting.

I sighed into the steamy air, and jumped into the shower. My fresh cuts burned immensely when the hot water dropped onto them.

"No time for whining," I thought to myself, as I remembered the task on hand. I forced a finger down my throat, making myself gag. It took me a couple times to hit my gag reflex just right. As soon as I slipped a second finger in, last night's mischief was on the shower floor and into the drain. I reached in to my throat about ten more times, making sure I got every last bit of the food out.

Next task, cleaning the cuts up. I gently wiped away the excess blood from them, trying to make them seem less visible, in case anything happened. But, accidentally, I reopened one of them and caused it to start bleeding again. I yelped in pain, but tried as hard as I could to keep it under the water to wash away the blood. Finally, the crimson colored water had turned into a dull pink.

"Good enough," I decided.

I quickly rinsed off the rest of my body, squeezed some shampoo into my curly locks, and got dressed. Just as I was about to exit the bathroom, I reapplied some bandages and made sure they were tight and leak-proof.

Making my way down stairs, my mom came and gave me a kiss on the cheek. If looked like she had been up all night.

"You look a little tired, mom, you alright?" I questioned.

"I was up all night talking to Matt. (Her new boyfriend) I feel like a teenager." She smiled lazily. I was happy for her that she found someone.

"Well, when do I get to meet this Matt?" I didn't really want to meet him, but me asking to would make my mother happy.

She giggled and said, "I don't know, but I'll be out tomorrow with him since it's Friday. I'll ask him over for dinner sometime next week when I'm out with him, yeah?"

"Sure, yeah. Sounds like a great time," I insisted.

"Okay, go to school. Love you, baby."

"Love you, mum."

~

Walking into school, I felt more aware. Whenever I cut (which is often, yeah), I'm always a lot more aware of my surroundings. I always feel like someone is just going to come up and pull up my sleeve and announce to the world that I cut myself. That's obviously not going to happen since no one knows about it, but still, my subconscious likes to tease me and make me feel even more anxious than I already am.

As if on cue, Louis shows up to the left of me and taps me in the shoulder. I flinch away, as the left arm is the one with the cuts. I realize it's him and smile.

"Sorry, Lou, you scared me there," I laugh nervously while pulling my sleeves down.

"Yeah, I can see that. Sorry Hazza," he chuckles.

I smile. "Another nickname, yeah? How cute."

"Yeah sorry, do you hate it?" He questions.

"No, no, I love it, Boobear."

Well, I've become quite confident in my conversation, haven't I?

Louis' POV:

Boobear, what a cute nickname. Can he tell I'm on the verge of squealing like a little girl?

I give him a wide smile and laugh extremely obnoxiously.

*first bell rings*

"Oops, I better be off. I'll see you in fourth, yeah?"

"Can't wait."

We smile and nod each other off to class.

~

I'm in third period and all I want to do is be with Harry.

I decide to text the lad.

To Haz: "Math is boring, but you aren't. Give me attention? I beg of you."

*two minutes later*

From Haz: "I'm fantastically flattered. And I'd also love to give you attention, Boobear. X"

To Haz: "Thank God, Mr. Richards is really killing me here."

From Haz: "Well, I'd be happy to relieve you of your pain."

We text for the remainder of the class, and I finally get to see him!

The bell rings and I'm off.

Harry's POV:

I look over the texts and shut my phone off as I make my way down the English hall. I'm always a little on the later end of passing minutes, considering the fact that my last class is all the way out on the other side of the school. I don't mind though... Calories are burning. I get a text from Lou again and I pull my phone out. Just as I'm about to read what it says, my phone is snatched out of my hand.

Zayn.

Zayn reads over my text from Louis and throws my phone against the lockers. This time, he doesn't even say anything to me- he just hits me. I'm on the ground before I realize what had just happened.

"You disgust me," he says, and walks into class without another word.

I can't take it anymore. My emotions were already out of whack because of the things I had done last night and I was already hurting inside. This just made me feel even worse.

I need to cut
I need to cut
I need to cut

I run to the bathroom after picking myself up off the floor.

I always bring a blade with me, in my pencil box for emergencies like this. I close a stall door behind me and sit on the ground in the dirty bathroom. I'm crying so hard, I can barely think straight. My vision goes blurry and I am suddenly extremely dizzy. I feel almost high. I bring the blade up to my wrist when I realize that it's bandaged. With my shaky hands, I rip off the bandaging and try to calm myself down so I can focus on the task at hand. My mind goes blank when the first cut is placed on my wrist. I go and I go, cutting my entire wrist up. I cut over old scars, over the new cuts, over the cuts from last night- everywhere. My mind is so foggy, I feel so high and dizzy, the cuts only made it worse. It's not long before my mind goes completely black- blade in my hand and wrist full of wounds.