Heal [a Zarry story]

Chapter 4

[Edited]

-Zayn-

I stabbed the canvas with my knife one last time, ripping it the rest of the way with my hands.

Harry asking me to paint with him was nothing but a trick, and I fell for it. I should've never went over to his flat, and eaten his food.

I was lucky I hadn't admitted anything important to him, or anything he could've used to dig deeper.

Seeing Toy Story had to have been my biggest mistake, because it made me think of Liam.

When I thought of Liam, or even slightly acknowledged his death, that voice came back.

Not his voice, but the voice of my old self.

The idiot that showed his emotions, and let people in...and loved.

He nagged me, and the worst part of it all was that he nagged me with the truth.

He told me it should've been me that died, not Liam. He told me that I was worthless, and it was my fault that Liam was gone. He told me that I was to feel pain for Liam whenever I acknowledged his death.

He told me I liked the pain.

He was right, and he always would be. Nobody could fix me.

Why couldn't that curly headed prick understand that and just give up?

With a heavy sigh, I tossed the shredded painting aside, my eyes landing on Liam's name.

"It should've been you." The voice began to echo deep inside my head, where I couldn't silence, or escape it.

"No." I said to myself, closing my eyes and trying to calm down.

"How can you be happy?" It asked, making me feel ashamed.

"I'm not happy. I won't be." I shuddered, feeling like it was closing in on me, sticking to my skin and in my hair.

"Feel pain for him. You like it. You like the pain." It ordered.

"No I don't!" I snapped, knowing what was coming.

"Do it." The voice commanded.

I fought back tears, grabbing my knife from where it lay on the floor. I gulped, taking off my shirt.

I wasn't new to this, and I realised I thought about Liam too much as I had to search for uncut skin, or skin that wasn't burned or bruised.

"I'm sorry Liam." I whispered, my voice shaking along with my hands.

"I love you." I mumbled, looking away as I pressed the knife against my wrist.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what started out as intense pain, but ended as a dull, almost undetectable pain.

"I like the pain." I repeated.

Deep down, I knew this was wrong, but there was a cloud, fogging my mind up and making my thoughts take many wrong turns.

I couldn't help it. This was me, and I was forever unfixable.

-Harry-

"I'm going to fix him." I told Louis that night as we lay in bed together.

"How, Harry? He sounds like a nutcase." Louis said.

"With time, and clever words." I smiled.

"Clever words? You don't mean those awful puns of yours, do you?" He asked.