Spaces Between Us- Hold All Our Secrets (ZARRY AU)

Until I forgive myself (12)

Zayn's POV

"Hey sonshine, how are you doing?", my mom' asked and I could hear the slight concern in her voice that she always had when she was talking to me.

"Doing good mom. Everything is alright. The classes are interesting and I think I'm able to keep up with the rest of the students", I informed her.

"Oh I'm so glad. And did you make any new friends?"

"Well I got Liam you know", I evaded, because honestly I hadn't really tried to get to know other people besides Harry. Right now I didn't feel like telling her about Harry though. For now I just wanted to keep our relationship for ourselves.

"Oh well, I'm not saying that's bad son, but it'll probably be a good idea to get among new folks."

"I know, I will consider that", I sighed, knowing she was right.

After we talked a bit about how they were doing, I ended the call feeling a bit uneasy. My mom wanted me to come visit soon, but I wasn't sure if I was up for that again. The last encounter with my dad had hurt a lot and I didn't think I could face him again. On the other hand, I really wanted to see my mom and my sisters...

I know I fucked up,

No need to remind me.

I know I'm fucked up

I was too blind to see.

All I am asking for is one more chance,

One more try,

To proof to you that I can do better,

Be better,

That I have changed.

If only you'd let me.

God I was a pathetic looser! Sitting on my bed and crying because of all my mistakes from the past. I should be grateful, I should be happy now that my mom made it possible for me to go to uni, I should appreciate it all! Because why were people still that nice to me even if they knew about it? That's something I couldn't understand. Why help a pathetic man that committed the worst crime one could commit. WHY? Some people just were too good, too forgiving, because they believed in me? Because they were convinced I could do better?

What help was it though, if they believed in me and I didn't believe in myself? I want to believe in myself again, but it's so hard to even just look into the mirror. Each time I couldn't recognize myself. All I see, is just this stranger looking like me. This stranger looks dull, lifeless and unworthy. Was that stranger really me? Did I become like that?

It's almost a question about who you were, a question of identity and personality.

Because did I know who I was? I highly doubted that. The fuck I knew about myself. Okay I knew I wanted to write, maybe become an English teacher? Or just become and author? I hadn't decided on something yet. But that's not enough to define myself.

What was is that I liked besides writing? Maybe listening to music or reading. But was that it? Was that all that I was? All my facets? If so, it wasn't enough, nothing valuable and worthy to stay.

Heck, me sulking in my own misery right now, proofed how much of a fuck up I was!

Sometimes I just wished I could end it. Just end it all and be free. Free from those heavy nightmares, that haunting past. Free from that fear of never being enough. Free from that guilt and my conscious, which reminded me every day that I deserved to die.

If you asked me for the truth, I knew this inner voice was right. I killed an innocent, well that was debatable, human. I didn't want to, I really didn't. That didn't mean I wasn't to blame! It had been my choice.