Heal [a Zarry story]

Chapter 22

                       -Zayn-

7:00pm.

We should've been finished with work two hours ago. My hands were numb, and almost raw from scrubbing with cold bleach.

David was nowhere to be found, and James had long left his post of watching us all day.

Liam kept glancing at me, trying to give me stern looks, but the pain in my joints helped me ignore them.

I knew he was suffering too. He'd never stand up for himself though. Liam, the old Liam, wouldn't have stood for this.

I glanced towards the exit, not seeing anyone that would stop me if I left. Escape wasn't an option, because I knew Tim and David's other mate were by the front gates smoking.

They always were.

The only way to escape would've been by water. But I couldn't swim. It was as if they knew my weaknesses.

I sighed, feeling lightheaded from the chemical smell. I couldn't take this anymore.

I tossed my scrubbing brush down, brushing my hands off on my trousers.

"Zayn-" Liam began, in a fatherly tone.

"Keep working." I said, figuring if he listened to everyone else so well, he'd listen to me.

I quickly walked out of the warehouse, pulling my hood on and brushing my fringe out of my eyes. I'd have to cut it myself soon if no one else would.

I also could've used a shave.

I prayed to myself that I wouldn't be noticed, and started walking towards the docks. They were further away from the larger boats and warehouses.

It was almost dark, and whatever was visible was seen as an outline. It would be incredibly easy to sneak up on someone in this lighting, so I stayed alert.

As I walked out onto the first dock I came to, I got that uneasy feeling in my stomach. I could hear the water sloshing beneath the boards I walked on.

The obsidian colour put awful thoughts in my head. Like if the boards broke, and I fell to a dark, frigid death.

It'd be so quick...so quiet. Nothing but a gasp and splash. No one would hear my screams from the depths.

"Lad," Someone said, making me flinch and come back into reality. I looked at him where he sat on the edge of the dock.

"Yeah?" I asked, clearing my throat glancing around. I couldn't see his face, but his cotton coloured beard stood out against his dark clothing.

"I asked if you wanted a cig." He said, lighting one that hung from his lips.

"Definitely." I said, not meaning to sound so desperate. Although, I was.

I took the cigarette he handed me, and the box of matches.

My hands shook as I struck the match, my nerves getting torn into even smaller pieces from the smell.

I hadn't had one in so long.

I was sure to take a long, deep drag. Relief flooded through me, and I felt it from the tip of my skull to the bottom of my feet.

I sighed with content, giving him back the matches. "Thank you." I said.

"No problem." He mumbled, taking another drag.

I walked to the other side of the dock, sitting down and resting my elbows on my knees.

I looked out across the water, noticing the tiny bit of light from where the sun had recently set. I found myself staring at it, and thinking about my mum.