Suicide Attempt • Larry Stylinson

• Chapter 17 •

Louis held a sharp metal object in a firmly grip against his arm. He had found the shiny item lying on the floor in the hallway as he was in a rush to the bathroom. He needed to release some pain, and get back some kind of control over his body, and the only thing that worked for Louis was using a sharp object and pushing it down into his skin.

Louis didn't like the word 'cutting' nor 'self-harming' and instead would like to call it 'life escaping for a moment.' It didn't sound quite as bad as the other words.

Sighing loudly, he closed the door to his stall and sank down onto utterly disgusting toilet. He knew it was very risky to cut overtly and probably only people who lived on the edge would do it, but sometimes you just have to. He also knew that someone could walk in on a bleeding and vulnerable him anytime but he was ready to sacrifice that. All for the love of misery and pain.

In a go, the silvery item was pushing into Louis' thin forearm. Causing blood to drip out, and pain to shoot through every single vein and muscle on his body.

''I deserve this,'' he whispered out, needing to tell himself that this pain was his own fault. He couldn't put the blame on anyone else but himself. It is his own fault that he's gay. It's his own fault that he's ugly. It's his own fault that he's fat. It's his own fault that he is such a disappointment to the world. It's his own fault that nobody likes him. Everything is his own fault, and Louis bloody hell knew that.

He laid pressure on the sharp object again, this time moving it across his arm to cause a long line of blood rushing out of his body. Louis felt weak like this, but also so much stronger. He could feel blood pumping out of his body, and he could feel himself getting even more dizzy for every passing minute, but Louis didn't care enough about that to stop.

His vision became blurry just as he heard a loud slam of a door. A door that led to the stalls of toilets and sinks.

''Shit,'' he cursed weakly, immediately throwing away his still unnamed sharp object.

''Anybody here?'' A loud voice echoed through the ever so silent room.

Louis kept still, trying his hardest to not move an inch, knowing that that would totally reveal him to the still mystery man outside his toilet stall. Louis slowly brought his feet up to his stomach, hiding his legs from the open space under the door.

''I fucking know you're in there, Tommo! Come out and play as a man!'' The voice demanded, but Louis still didn't move. Why should he? Just to get beat up and then spit at? Hell to the no. He'd rather sit inside his stall, playing with his phone or something.

''You're a weakling, you know that, fag?'' The man shouted, and only now Louis recognised the voice as Zayn's. Fuck.

Louis could hear Zayn pushing all of the doors open, and then pause at the only locked door left, Louis'.

''You know what, Tommo, I think you're a huge fucking disappointment to the world,'' he spat as he kicked on the door to Louis' stall. ''You've never done anything good to anyone, you're just a fucked up mess that should die,'' he continued.

Louis could feel his eyes getting more watery and watery after every audible word Zayn said. He knew all of this was true, all of the things the raven haired boy said, but it still hurt like hell.

''If you don't fucking open this door soon, I will kick it open.''

''Please, leave,'' Louis pleaded. ''Please, please, please,'' he hiccuped as tears streamed down his face. The pain in his left arm was still there and Louis yelped as he covered the scars with his hand. He didn't want to bleed to death in the school's disgusting bathrooms. He needed to get out of here. But how?