Sin (BoyxBoy) (Ziam)

Burning

Update time!

I am so excited to be back to updating, and I am trying to get back on schedule, but I'm just adjusting back to it again. Please bear with me. But I will hopefully be updating every weekend again soon.

⚠Trigger Warning⚠: This chapter does contain some heavy content. It includes mentions of sexual abuse and physical abuse as well as hints of depression and suicidal thoughts. Please read carefully.

As always, please take care of yourselves and have a lovely day. Enjoy! 💕

Chapter 26:

Flashback

I stood in my old bedroom, looking all around and feeling like I never even lived here at all. It seemed like a set to a horror film. Everything inside was accompanied by a dreadful memory. Everything was stained in agony. Everything reminded me of him. The clock on my nightstans that I would stare at through the night, playing a guessing game with myself, wondering when and if he would come to my room-- watching each minute tick by as he took and used and harmed. Because that was all I could do. Wait. When my body was too tired to fight, I could only wait.

I unplugged the clock, feeling frightened that the minute would change, and I would be trapped in that world again. Like time was frozen right now, so nothing could hurt me. It was idiotic and unrealistic, but it was all I could do not to panic.

My aunt stood in the doorway with the lawyer we had. I could hear her thanking him, but it all sounded so drowned out. It was like I was underwater but nobody knew. I was still suffocating. I was holding my breath, struggling not to gasp for air because I knew I wouldn't receive it. If I tried to breathe, my lungs would fill with water, and I would finally sink to the bottom of the ocean, never to surface again.

A part of me wanted that. I wanted to be completely encapsulated by the shades of blue of the ocean that couldn't be described with words. I wanted to drown away in it and drift peacefully along for all eternity. Something about that concept seemed appealing.

"Do you need help, Zayn?" My aunt asked, cutting me loose from my dark thoughts and pulling me back to reality. Reality hurt.

"No. I'm not taking much," I replied, looking around the room and trying to determine what meant something to me. I didn't really own much that truly had meaning to me. Not anymore. Everything was tainted by him.

I didn't want to take any of my clothes because each outfit had traces of his handson them. I didn't want to take any of my posters on the walls because they all seemed like something in the past. They were reminders of moments I wanted to forget. I didn't want to take anything that lay on my desk or even a pair of shoes. I didn't even want to touch a single pillow on my bed or be near the foot of the bed. I was afraid that I would break.

I walked straight past everything else in my room and opened the bottom drawer of my dresser. I dug around on the bottom and pulled my song writing journal free from the pile of junk on top of it. It was probably the only thing I truly wanted to keep. It was the only thing that seemed real anymore. It contained all of my real emotions, and I wanted to know that I wasn't insane, that it truly happened, and that it was truly over.

"That it?" My aunt questioned as I walked back over to her in the doorway. She didn't seem shocked at all by my lack of items. It was as if she already knew I'd want to leave most things behind.

"Yeah. It's all I need," I said, and she nodded once before offering me a small smile, meant to encourage me, and she placed a hand on my shoulder.