that's not why × ziam au (short story)

part ii × hell

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"Hell is empty and all the devils are here."

—William Shakespeare

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When Liam makes it home, he immediately runs up to his room, box pressed against his chest as he opens the door and shuts it with his foot.

Since his parents aren’t home, he doesn’t have his mother barging in, offering him cookies and sandwiches. Though it would be nice, since he is almost starving, he doesn’t want his mother walking in on him reading letters that a dead boy has written for him.

He sits down on his desk, turning the small lamp on as he places the box on top of the pile of unimportant papers and out dated essays with regular grades on them. He pushes most of them out of the way, the blood pumping through his veins due to the excitement and anxiousness of this whole situation.

Liam doesn’t consider himself as a nosey person, he liked to keep his problems to himself and avoid other people’s business. He didn’t want to barge into a problem that wasn’t his and he thought that it was a fairly nice trait. But this was a dead boy they are talking about, he had committed suicide for a reason and nobody knew why.

This was the only way to find out why he had decided to take his life.

So with a crack on each of his knuckles, Liam slowly lifts the top again, taking out the first letter he had read and grabbing the second one on the pile. He takes a deep breath and begins to read:

Entry #2

Dear Liam,

 

I’m guessing that you have decided to continue with this.

Again, you can burn this or show this to the whole school if you want, I don’t mind really.

I’d like to write down a topic to why my life is/was a living hell. You may not care, but that’s ridiculous. You are reading because you care, right?

I get called names constantly, after school someone is always pinning me against a wall and punching me in the stomach repeatedly. Everyone laughs at me as if I’m dressed as a clown, there’s always something so hilarious about me and I just can’t put my finger on it. I’m a joke.

Those team mates of yours are the ones that cause me more pain, especially Jordan.

His name is almost like venom, I can’t say it without my voice cracking and it’s pathetic. I’m pathetic.

They liked to take away my inhaler when they would beat me down to the ground. But that’s what made me notice that when oxygen isn’t making its way towards the brain, everything feels numb. I could barely feel their sharp kicks to my ribs or punches to my stomach when I couldn’t breathe. I realized that I liked feeling numb. I liked the feeling of not breating.

Ever since I began going to school, I’ve always been the main target, the easiest one to hurt. But I do not consider myself as a victim, I don’t want people to pity me, I don’t want them to have those stupid apologetic smiles I have learned to hate whenever they see me. I’m not a victim; I’m just an unlucky human being.

I don’t know what I did to earn the hate from so many people, I mean, what have I done wrong? I don’t remember doing anything to them; I’ve just been doing what I always do ever since I came into this world.

Eat, sleep, (trying to) learn and breathe.

But then again, I am what many people hate: a fag.

Yes I am gay, many people already knew that. But why is it so bad? All I’m doing is preferring men over women. I’m not hurting them with my preferences, am I?

My father thinks the same; I’m a fag. But I can prove to you that I am much more than that. I am much more than those awful words that are always attacking me with.

I am a Muslim and my father believes that I am disgrace towards my family and religion. To tell you the truth, I don’t know why homosexuals are always getting so much hate and are always getting the ‘God-will-not-accept-you-in-heaven’ speech.

I actually give no fucks if after I kill myself, God will tell me the way to hell.

Because the truth is, I think that hell is nowhere near as horrible as this nightmare called Earth.

I would rather wake up surrounded by flames and greeted by the Devil himself than go to school or confront my father once again.

I can’t Liam, I am tired and I feel older than I already am. This place has brought me down and I’ve hit rock bottom far too many times.

Jordan, the other kids at school, the teachers and many other people have all made me far too miserable to continue with my life. I just want to get this over with.

But even though they made my life a complete torment, they are not the full reason why I have decided to kill myself.

Talk about plot twist, huh.

Many might think that they are the reason why I am dead, but they are only a small percentage to that reason.

The bullying; that’s not why I killed myself.

 

-Zayn

Liam slowly looks up from the letter, his body trembling in a violent way, he hadn’t noticed until he had stopped reading.

It was all too raw and Liam could almost feel what he was feeling. He wanted to hug Zayn; he wanted to tell him everything was going to be alright. If he were still alive, he would’ve made sure that those horrible people would’ve never gotten near him, he was hurting in so many ways.

He fought the tears that were coming and he sniffed until he felt himself calm down. But he wasn’t because he just read a reason why a teen had decided to take his own life.

He was having a panic attack.

Liam felt as if the world was spinning, so he got up and exited his room, his shoulder resting against the wall, preventing him to fall down the stairs as he walked down them.

The walk to the kitchen felt almost infinite, in slow-motion as his heart pump loudly in his ears. He brought his hands up to rub his eyes, his palm digging into the itching and burning area. He bumped into the table and counter, just wanting a glass of water before passing out.

He turned on the faucet, bending down to cup the water with his hands as he began to gulp quickly. It ran down his throat giving him a relieved and cool feeling through his whole body.

Liam drank a bit more until his mouth didn’t feel so dry and the tip of his tongue wasn’t numb. He turned around, sighing as he placed his hands on the back of the counter, resting as he took deep breaths.

What had just happened was something Liam had never experienced before. He had never felt so nervous and frightened and it had all happened because of what he had read.

Zayn was suffering this whole time and Liam and many other people were completely oblivious to it, even his own father.

There are no more tears in his eyes but Liam is pretty sure that his story still has this affect on him.

Though he is a bit relaxed now (he doesn’t want to fill himself up with nervousness and guilt all at once, he’ll be reading a letter a few times a week), but he is sure that that Zayn and his letters will haunt him for some time.

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Hello!!!

I hope you enjoyed this chap!! More coming up on the twenty-eighth of this month c:

What did you guys think about this chapter? Any predictions?

Lots of love ♥

-Nessa