Suicidal. (One Direction Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1

{Chapter 1}

***This chapter is dedicated to CookieBella123 go follow her now! :D*****


*****Ariana's P.O.V*****


Today was the second year of High School. I was in 10th grade. Usually you would be excited for days like this, or you would be happy. Me? I am none of those. My mind is filled with Negative Thoughts. I can't control myself. The little care free, go lucky, happy girl I used to be is gone. When I would eat little treats my parents would give me when I was a little girl. I would go out in the meadow and pick little Daisies...



But that was along time ago...



My mind replied, louder than the others. Soon that voice faded, and I was stuck with the other same old ones I hear everyday. When I am in public, or even when I'm alone. That's how depressed I am.



Worthless.

Bitch.

Whore.

Slut.

Emo.

Attention Seeker.



''STOP! STOP! STOP!' I screamed louder and louder, and eventually punched a mirror in the wall. I watched as some of the glass fell into little pieces of bits. You would only see them fall in a matter of seconds. I saw them like it was in Slow Motion. I saw as the little piece of glasses fell, helpless, and land on the floor, creating such a big mess.



That was exactly how I felt. Like I was falling deeper into an endless pit. Helpless, frightened, alone. Crying out for help, frantically trying to get back up, but as I try harder and harder, I eventually come landing to the floor creating bits of pieces of me. When I say bits of pieces of me, I mean like, I am breaking myself apart, and eventually creating another person that takes over my mind. My life. Myself.



It's as if I am creating a new person, but this time, the darker side of me. The stronger, horrible, negative side of me. As the negative side tries to push myself higher, it eventually gets worse and gets pushed back. But I stay exactly where I am. Just letting the negative thoughts control me, and nothing else. If I keep breaking myself apart, the negative side will take over my place and become Suicidal.


Today was the worst day I envied. I knew that I would have to go back to that place of torment. It's like an endless fire. This time, it's directed to me. And burning me to ashes until I'm left with nothing. Nothing but my own soul.


I flinched as I heard my bed room door open, and saw my Father there. Standing with a bottle of Vodka in one hand, and a baseball bat, in the other. My father was always the kind one, but ever since I started Middle School, something snapped in him and he started to torture me, and I don't think he is going to stop until I breathe my last breath.


"WHY DID YOU BREAK THE MIRROR? HUH? ARE YOU STUPID!? DUMBASS!" He yelled, but I just stood there, with my arm that I punched the mirror with, and watched as the vital fluid dripped out of my hand, and splashed to the floor. "LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M SPEAKING TO YOU!" My father screamed at me and forced my head to look straight into his eyes.


He threw the vodka bottle that was in his arm and threw it at me. It wasn't empty. And he knew that. The glass bottle crashed right in my chest, and it burned all my scratches and bruises. I screamed out in agony. I dropped to the floor with my eyes closed, but I could still see the smirk on my father's face.


I opened one of my eyes, and saw as he gripped the bat with both of his hands. He then smacked me with the bat quickly and forcefully. I let out a whimper, and just lied there. He hit me again, and again, and again. Until he knew that I had enough. He dropped the bat onto the floor and left.


I looked over at the clock. It was only 6:57 and I needed to be at school at 8:45. I guess I can just sleep here and hope that I don't wake up my parents. I was already punished enough and I don't need another one. My breathing became slower and slower, and the bruises in my whole entire body was in discomfort. I couldn't stand the pain, it wouldn't leave me alone. I eventually grabbed the closest thing next to me. The closet door knob, and used it to pick myself up.


I failed completely since I used my arm that had glass sticking out, and fell to the floor once again, making the bruises and scratches become more in pain then it was before. I let out a scream but then closed my mouth as quick as I can, I didn't want my parents to torture me again. And my vision became more blurrier than before.


I grabbed the door knob again, with my good hand and used it to grab my fragile body up. I was in pain, but managed to successfully stand up without having to fall again. I looked all over my room, well sorta like my cell. I'm always locked up in here until my parents need anything, I'm there slave. The depressed, worthless, suicidal slave.


My room was such a mess. Glass was covered everywhere. And I mean Everywhere. The base ball bat was in the floor covered with a little bit of that red liquid. And I knew exactly what that was. The glass bottle of Vodka pieces were absolutely everywhere of course, and the room had that horrible stench. I looked at the broken mirror I punched, there was still a bit of glass, but I got to see myself head to toe.


I totally regretted ever looking at myself in the mirror. My hair was going in all directions. My shirt was ripped up and you can see my stomach, and back. My sweatpants were ok, but it had a big circle of blood in my right knee, I was too afraid too look at it, but I knew I had to soon. I grabbed my sweatpants right side of the end, and pulled it up.


This was not a pretty picture. Don't you have those moments where you fall into something hard like cement, and then you scratch your knee? Somehow, the pain goes away. But for me? I'm still surprised how I could still walk on this knee. There was absolutely a big horrible scar on my knee! It got scratched by one of those big glass pieces of the bottle, or either the mirror. I guess my dad hit that part so hard, it made it even worse.


I couldn't even look at it, now that I see it makes me not wanting to stand up. I don't wanna be in more pain than I am right now. But I knew that I had to get ready for school otherwise and just try to ignore the pain. And I knew that wouldn't be easy. I have ignored the pain for the last 4 years, and trust me, It's hard when every inch of your body hurts like you just got hit by a train.


I went to the bathroom in my room, and turned on the fossil with every strength I had left in me. With the cold water pouring, I put my hand I punched the mirror under the water and tried to take out the glasses in my knuckles. They were horrible. The glasses were too deep inside my knuckles. I got a rag and tried to tie it around my mouth and neck so I won't make sound. I then got some tweezers, and got a glass. I pulled it out slowly, but it only made it worse.


My eyes became a little bit blurry now, and I was crying way too much. I couldn't stop. I pulled it out, this time, quickly, and the let out a horrifying scream. Through the rag it just sounded like 'mmmmmmmmmmmmm'. The others were small, so it only hurt like a little pinch. Once they were all gone, I washed my hands slowly and carefully, and then put some bandages into some scars and cuts.


I quickly got a skirt. I knew I had to cover the scar on my knee, but I just didn't have any long jeans. All I had were the slutty outfits my dad would buy me, but this skirt wasn't one of them. This skirt was one of the clothes my grandmother gave me before she died. She also gave me shirt to match with, it sorta looked like a dress, but I didn't care. It was absolutely lovely!


I changed and hummed to one of the songs I was writing. 'Baby I', I wasn't really into singing, but my Grandmother would say that I had a lovely voice. She was even surprised when she found out that I sang the National Anthem when I was 8. She told me to keep trying, because maybe, just maybe, I'll become a singer.


I changed right away, and once I was ready, it was only 7:11. I went to the bathroom once again, brushed my teeth, combed my hair and put half of my hair up, and the other half of it down. And then let my hair fall loosely onto my shoulders. I put mascara,and foundaton in all over my bruises, and I knew I was finally done. I checked the clock and it was only 7:24. It was pretty early, so I just decided to sketch for a bit.


Once I started to sketch I couldn't stop. I made sure everything was in the correct place. That everything was especially correct and perfectly detailed. I was done and found out what I drew...


It was a picture of me about to fall off a bridge. In the background there was Harry with an evil smirk, Louis and Niall were shocked, and Liam and Zayn were looking away. It almost looked so real, you can almost mistake it for a picture. I checked the clock and found it was 7:56. Woah, time went by so quick. I got up and quickly put my sketch pad back into my backpack. I swung it over my shoulder and left for whatever was going to come next. And I knew it was going to be terrible.