Pre-warning: If this is going to trigger anything for any of my lovely readers, then please don't read this one. I understand if that is the case. I almost can't read it myself, and I wrote it. Remember, if you ever want to talk to me about it, my inbox is always open, even if I'm not around to get to it. As soon as I see your message, I will respond, promise. :D Now, if it's not going to trigger you to self-harm, then continue to read. 

Zayn: "Janel, come here, now! I have to show you something." He yelled, from the bathroom. You instantly thought that this could not be good. You walk to the door, and see Zayn standing in front of the sink.

"Oh, you're here. That took you long enough."

"Yea, yea, save it. What is it this time?"

"What is this, Janel, and why is there blood on it?"

"Crap, you found it."

"I found what?"

"One of my cutting utensils. (slaps mouth)"

"Janel, cut? Why, baby girl?"

"Ever since I lost that one meet, back in December, I've been cutting. Each one is a time where I didn't get at least third place, even at practice. The deeper ones, on my stomach, are times where I have fell. There's a lot of them."

"Yea, and not getting placing position make you cut why?"

"Zayn, it's hard to be a Nationally recognized speed skater, and get less than placing. Everyone expects higher than that, especially when I can prove it with the medals that I have gotten- FROM NATIONALS! Now, just let me cry by myself. I don't want you to see me cry."

"No, baby girl, I'm crying with you. You can't do this to yourself, and not tell me about it. I can help you get over this. That's what I'm here for, baby." You burst into tears, and drop to your knees. Zayn goes down, and cuddles you into his chest, and you cry for hours on end, and just when you want to stop crying, somehow, you just can't stop.

Niall: He had just found a cut on your stomach, and he questioned why it was there. He knew that you had something to yourself.

"Janel, what is this...a cut on your stomach? What's it from? Was it accidental? Did you do it on purpose?"

"Ni, chill! I was climbing a tree, and a branch scratched me. It's not like I cut, or anything like that, geez!"

"Janel, do you cut? You can tell me the truth; it's not I'll break up with you. I'm here to help you, Janel."

"Fine, Niall! I cut. Happy now?"

"No; why do you do it to yourself? You're too beautiful for this. Please, stop, or we have to take you in."

"NO, Niall, I'll stop, but you have to help me." "Deal, princess." He, over the course of the next two weeks, helped you stop cutting.

Liam: He had suspected that something was wrong when you didn't finish your rice one night.

"Janel, what's wrong? You didn't finish dinner. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yea, I'm fine. I must not be hungry, that's all." The next night after that, the same thing. This time, you ate less than you did last night.

"Janel, are you sure that you're OK? You didn't finish your dinner, yet again. Are you sick? Do you have a slight stomachache?"

"Yea, just a bit, but I'll be OK."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel bad."

"Yea, Liam, I'll be fine." The next three nights were the same; you ate less and less, and one night, after you ate, you ran to the bathroom. You got a feeling that you had to puke, but didn't, at the same time. The bulimia was kicking in, and it was noticable, but Liam didn't know about it yet.

"Oh my God, Janel, are you alright? Should I take you to the doctor? Have you thrown up?"

"No, Liam, and I'm fine. Trust me."

"No, I'm not trusting you. You've been like this for almost a week, that I've noticed. Are you...anorexic and/or bulimic? You can tell me."

"Fine, yes, I am."

"Babe...why are you harming yourself like this?"

"I heard something that Zayn said."

"What did he say? I could talk to him about it."

"Zayn called me fat, and said that I should lose my bulge of a stomach."


*On the phone with Zayn* "Hello, Zayn, it's Liam."

"Hey, what's up?"

"Why'd you call my girl fat?"

"What? I never-"


"Liam, I swear, I didn't say that."


"Yea, really. Now, I'm going to go punch on my punching bag now. Talk to you later, Liam, and tell Janel that she needs to hold something down." *hangs up* You came out of the bathroom, crying, and ran to the cabinet, in the kitchen. You grabbed a bar of chocolate, and ran to your room, keeping the chocolate away, and hidden from Liam. You slammed your bedroom door, and ate your chocolate, listening for Liam at the door. He never knocked, so you fell asleep, alone, and wanting Liam to comfort you.

"LLLLIIIIAAAAMMMMM! MY ROOM, NOW!" He sprinted in the door, slamming it behind him.

"Yea, lovely, what is it? Are you scared?"

"Yes. I want you to hold me. Can you see that I'm crying?"

"Yes, I can." He laid down next to you, and rocked you, not the sexual way, but like the "comforting the crying baby" way, and you fell asleep, after listening to him sing "My Beautiful Princess" to you.

Louis: Louis was out, with the boys, and you were bored. You checked Twitter. What you saw put you into a state of shock. You couldn't believe what you saw. Hate was everywhere. You shut it off, then went to the bathroom. You had a way of taking care of the haters, but it was potentially harmful- never mind that, it is. You took out your stainless steel blade, from underneath the sink, and left three deep gashes in your wrist. You decided to let yourself bleed until it stopped itself, then called Louis.

"Hello, OH MY GOD, JJ! I'LL BE RIGHT HOME!" He sprinted in the door 5 minutes later, and saw your wrist. "Is this what you called me about? Love, what is this?" He saw the fresh blood on your white long-sleeve shirt. "Cutting....why? Why, baby girl?" Louis continued, in severe shock and disappointment. You pulled up your Twitter, and Louis got furious! He typed back, in reply to all of the haters "STOP THE HATE ON JANEL, WILL YOU? Geez, guys. I thought that you Directioners were better than that." He saw you start to cry. "Here, JJ, use this." You buried yourself into Louis' toned chest, and cried until you passed out.

Harry: "Janel, baby, come to the bathroom, immediately." You came to the entrance to the bathroom, and Harry faced you, holding your cutting blade.

"What is this? Let me see your stomach." You lifted your shirt up a bit, to reveal some scars, from that same blade that Harry was holding.

"Babe, please, tell me. Did I make you- did I make you feel like... I can't even...Janel, why?"

"Hate, Harry, it's everywhere."

"I know, but you had to....cut yourself open...why, Janel?" You dropped to your knees, crying, and Harry carried you to bed, where as soon as he laid you down, you sprinted to the bathroom, puking your guts out.

"Are you anorexic, too, babe?"

"Yes, and why do you care?"

"*deep gasp* Janel, I can't even believe that you just said that! I care, because I love you. I don't want you to cut, or purposely make yourself throw up. It's not good for you. Come back to bed when you're done." You came back a few minutes later, and climbed into bed. Harry sung you to sleep, and when you were finally asleep, he kissed you.

"Good night, and let's have a better day tomorrow."