Kidnapped by... One Direction?

Chapter 4: My Hide-Away Place

Okay, so, there is a WHOLE LOT of mentions of self harm in this chapter and possibly the next.

If you dont like or think this may be a trigger, THEN PLEASE DO NOT READ!

Thanks! R&R. Enjoy.

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~Char POV~

After about a minute of rummagin through the cabinets, I finally find an un-opened bag of razors.

Perfect. I think to myself.

I tear the bag open quietly and grab one off the top. I had already found a safe place to hide the razor so I can come back if need.

I take the blade cover off and put it on the counter. I rinse the tops of the blade and my lower left arm in cool water. When the rinsing was done, I pressed the sharp blade to my fragile skin and wait for the blood to come.

And it does. After about the first two cuts, I began going frantic but I gain control of myself.

"One for my parents..." one more cut. "One for it being my fault..." one more. "One for being a burden. Slut. Whore. Fat. Unperfect. A disgrace." I named off all the things I hate about myself, when I realize that there was alot of knocking at the door.

"Charlotte, is everything alright?" Louis asks through the door.

"I... Uh.... I'm fine." I scramble to hide my razor and wash my hand. It wouldn't stop bleeding. I know I didn't cut to deep, but I did cut quite a bit.

"Are you sure? Do you need any help?" a voice asks.

"Uh huh. I'm fine." I quickly wrap an Ace bandage around it and pull a jacket on over me. It smelled like Louis. I dont think he'll mind. I open the door to find five boys all just standing there.

"Hello, Charlotte! These are the rest of the boys. Niall, Liam, Zayn, and Harry. Our girlfriends should be here sometime soon." Louis says, pointing to everyone. I smile and wave.

"I'm Charlotte. Louis, is my cereal ready?" I ask. He nods. I follow him downstairs into the kitchen. I hop up onto the counter and sit criss-crossed with the bowl in my lap. I eat it slowly. I was almost done when someone knocked on the door. Louis, Liam, and Zayn got off the couch and raced to the door. I heard it fly open and a unison of gasps rang from the front of the house.

Who could that be?

I slip off the counter and peer around the corner. My eyes nearly fall out of my sockets at who is standing in the doorway.

My favorite family friend. My best friend. My singing coach. My "uncle".

Simon Cowell.

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