Cuts raced up and down his arms, over more scars caused by a razor. As he lied on his bathroom floor, the blood dripping off his arm, painting a picture on the floor. He got to his feet; slowly and trying not to make a noise. He had relapsed, and hard this time. It was over five months ago when he stopped cutting; but today he just felt to low. The voices inside his head got to loud, and he needed them quiet. He washed off his arms, them cleaned up all the blood and wrapped his arm up. He walked out of the bathroom, head hung and shoulder dropped as he pulled down his long sleeve jacket and return to the boys. He had to be brave, but he also needed someone to save him. He was falling to pieces, and needed someone to super glue him back together and protect him. He was Niall Horan, and he needed a super hero. [Completed; 1-19-2014 ] © wxnderlessdreams 2014
34 parts