Nineteen

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*Justin's POV*

I was awoken by a very loud sound of something breaking.

I quickly sat up, trying to regroup my surroundings.

Oh, I'm in Zendaya's house. I stayed after I took her home. "Stayed" more like broke in, but she needs me right now.

I stood up from the couch and sprinted up to Zendaya's room.

I barged through the door to see a glass vase flying towards me. Out of reflex, I shielded my body. This wouldn't help at all but I'm not exactly in control of my reflexes.

Once the glass hit my arm, it shattered leaving me with shards of glass stuck in my arms and some in my tshirt.

I brushed it off, wanting to care more for her safety than my own.

I walked closer to her. She was sitting on the floor, knees close to her body with a bowed head.

There was blood on the ground. Razors, broken glass, clothes everywhere, nothing in order, everything a complete mess.

My eyes started to tear up.

I sat down on the ground, affraid of Zendaya's actions.

I took her arm, which was wrapped around her legs, to search for damage.

My eyes were immediately with the lines of self harm. She'd been cutting. A lot.

Blood was literally flowing out of her arm, which made me cringe.

I walked out of her room calmly and headed for the bathroom. I searched for whatever I could find to cover the wounds with panic.

I found some bandages and tape, which was going to have to cut it. [no pun intended]

I ran back to her room to find her in the same position she was when I left her.

I sat in front of her and placed the bandages and tape on the ground. I took her arm in my hands and picked up a bandage, when she pulled away.

"Zendaya, please. Please let me help you." I spoke in a soft and genuine tone.

She slowly looked up to me.

Her cheeks were stained with a combination of makeup and tears, her eyes were blood red, and she had circles as dark as night under her eyes. I'd never seen her like this. She's so broken.

"Please." I whispered placing my hand on the side of her face.

She placed her arms out in front of her, allowing my to fix her.

I covered all her wounds and then brought her to her feet.

Looking down at this girl that used to be the lively and crazy Zendaya Coleman makes me feel nothing but sorry for her.

I softly pecked her on the foreheard and brought her in for a warm and comforting hug.

As she cried into my chest, I held her tight. I broke apart the hug and held my hands on her shoulders.

"Get some rest, ok?" I told her, gazing into her bloodshot and tired eyes.

I wiped her cheek with my thumb then held her hand whilst walking to her bed. When she collapsed to the floor.

I dropped down to the ground next to her and quickly checked her pulse. Nothing.

What's happening?!

I looked up to her desk. Pills.

4 canisters lay empty on their sides.

Instagram: @zendayafacts_

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Don't Play With Me // A Zendaya {and Justin Bieber} FanfictionDär berättelser lever. Upptäck nu