Broken || Little Mix ||

Chapter 17 - E

**TRIGGER WARNING**

I slam the door to my hotel room behind me, heading directly to my suitcase, which was brought up for me earlier. The girls insisted that we have a sleepover tonight so they can keep an eye on me. The only way they got me to agree was under the condition that I could shower and call Clarke first. Every fiber of my being dreads having to go back over to Perrie's room to sit through a night of whatever the hell it is they have planned.

I grab my shower bag and stomp myself over to the bathroom, my anger seemingly fueled by the drugs in my system. The bathroom door gets slammed behind me and I immediately start unpacking my stuff for the shower. I'm nearly ready to step in when the shiny glint of my silver blade catches my eye. Before I can think, my hand encloses on the sharp metal and I'm dragging it across my skin.

My mind barely registers the stinging bite that each new line brings, causing me to make more and more slashes into my arm, desperate to make the emotional pain into something more real. After what feels like at least thirty slashes on each arm the pain finally beings to register causing me to quickly throw the blade into the sink. Deep red liquid runs quickly down my arms and the counter looks like a slaughterhouse.

"Fuck."

Through my haze of adrenaline, the cuts begin to sting and I turn the faucet on. Steeling myself, I force my arms under the cold current, swearing violently as it bites at the angry and inflamed lines. Not caring about staining them, I grab two of the hotels hand towels and tightly wrap them around my arms before digging out my plasters from my shower bag. A quick glance at my phone shows that twenty minutes has passed. So much for showering. It takes eleven plasters for left arm and another nine to cover up my right arm. I hastily clean up the sink and spray some dry shampoo in my hair and reapply deodorant. I can shower tomorrow before we leave.

I exit the bathroom and pull on my Minnie Mouse sweater and a pair of shorts before calling Clarke. He answers on the second ring.

"Hey babe," he says sleepily.

"Did I wake you?" I ask slightly worried.

"No, I've been up for a little bit. I've got a business meeting about an hour and a half away so I have to get ready soon."

"Please be safe."

"Always."

The line goes quiet for a bit as I search for something to say. My mind remains blank.

"What's wrong Jade?"

Clarke's voice pierces through the fog in my head. I recognize the tone of care and worry in it. If it was anyone else, I'm sure that it would anger me more but knowing that he cares enough to actually ask and listen is enough to make me feel slightly better.

"The girls and I got into sort of a disagreement."

"What happened?" he asks softly. His tone isn't prying or nosy, just full of concern.

"Leigh called me out on being high in front of the other girls plus Aaron and Claude. Then we got into a fight, and I accidentally let it slip about how badly my depression's been lately," I explain.

"Shit, I'm sorry babe. How did it go over?"

My severe depression isn't any sort of new revelation for him. Between Facetime, phone calls, and constant texts, he's been my rock through most of my problems as of late. His question relaxes me a bit, knowing that I can be fully open and vulnerable with him without receiving any judgement or lecturing in return.