Fill Me Up

Part 11

WARNING: Has mentions of purging and self harm so just read with caution yeah?

~*~ ZAYN'S POV ~*~

I've been trying to stay true to my word. Trying my best to keep my food down even though all I wanted was for it to have never entered my body in the first place. The task was made even more difficult when my father decided that sexually abusing me once a day wasn't enough for him and I had to endure it at least five times a day more likely than not. It didn't bother me emotionally as much  anymore since I stopped caring about myself, choosing instead to focus on Niall, but it made me feel extremely nauseous at even the sight of my father, imagine how I felt when he was actually raping me. Ugh, its the most disgusting thing in the world. I wonder how I've been able to keep from throwing it all up on the first day.

But all of that doesn't compare to the stabbing pain I feel being away from Niall. His presence always made being abused a little less painful, even before he knew I existed. Suddenly being without it when I need it the most is probably how a druggie feels giving up on drugs cold turkey; incredibly desperate for it and in physical pain. I cant ever seem to keep my thoughts from roaming to the little blonde, wondering how he's doing as I mindlessly toy with his left-behind blade. I couldn't help but compare it to Cinderella and how she had forgotten her glass slipper, leaving it as the only thing the prince had to find her with only Niall was a guy, we were currently kept apart by my father and his henchmen I guess, and he had left a blade instead of a shoe which made it painfully obvious that this was no type of messed up fairytale and we were probably never going to see each other and get married in the end like the story. That was another thing I thought of frequently. Getting married to Niall, I mean. What it might be like to finally be able to create a life together, where we'd choose to live because I know I wouldn't be able to stand living anywhere near my old apartment, and whether or not we would adopt children. Of course, I'm extremely down to earth so I know very, very well that my thoughts would never become reality. Its impossible for me to get to Niall what with both of us being watched 24/7 and more importantly, him not liking me.

Niall had been hiding behind this other personality he had created for himself so how was I to know whether or not he actually meant everything he said? Oh god, everything could have been a lie and here I am completely head over heels for a guy who cared nothing for me. I'm so stupid. So incredibly naïve and stupid. I should have listened to the countless times my father told me I was worthless. Maybe he had been right this whole time. Maybe I deserved this, I mean, its not like anyone really cares about me. All the shreds of hope that remained I had given to Niall and he had torn them to pieces. But this wasn't his fault, no, it was all mine. I mean seriously, how completely insane was I to believe he cared?

I removed the arm I had thrown over my face and sat up on the lumpy mattress of the cheap hotel we were currently staying at. I wrinkled my nose at the unusual feeling of my stomach being full after the complimentary meal the hotel handed out each morning, the food churning sickingly. I wasn't use to that amount of food. I wanted it out. I wanted it out so so badly and my father had just left to get some things he needed from the convenience store not too far away but since he had gone walking I knew I had a bit of relief before hell returned. Now was my chance.

I dashed to the restroom, getting a glimpse of the man watching me zoom in a little bit more. God, will they ever leave me alone? He was instantly shoved out of my mind as soon as the door was shut and locked. I slid onto my knees, waves of nostalgia washed over me, leaving me reminiscing all the times I had done this in the past and the relief it provided me. I was quick to shove two fingers down my throat, latching on to the seat with my other hand to keep me steady. It wasn't long before the contents of my stomach emptied out into the bowl leaving a sour, yet strangely comforting, taste in my mouth. I repeated the process, retching until I was absolutely certain there was nothing in my stomach, welcoming the pain that bloomed in my throat as I sat back on my heels with my brain buzzing behind my closed eyelids.