I got all the way home before realizing that I’d left my phone at Niall’s as well. I groaned as I collapsed onto my sofa, taking in what all had happened.
I’d cooled down on the long walk home. I didn’t have to cry anymore, and my emotions were back in check. I’d been wrong to think that I didn’t want to be Niall’s friend. Looking back on past interactions between Niall and I, I realized that Niall’s reaction to everything today was the biggest step toward friendship he’d ever taken with me. He’d stopped himself from hurting me. The only angry words directed toward me were ‘get out’. I’d made it home, unharmed.
Feeling a bit greasy from the party the night before, I decided to have a shower. As I tugged Niall’s polo over my head, my bandeau underneath rode up a bit. I bent down to shrug off his boxer’s, folding both pieces of clothing and scooting them to the corner. As I straightened, my midsection caught my eye. Just below the end of the bandeau was the cut I’d made just four days ago, a thin scab forming where blood had once been drawn.
Four days ago, I’d needed that. I’d needed a sense of control so much that I’d resorted to inflicting pain on my body. Niall had made my life seem so out of control that I’d done this to myself. And now, it seemed impossible that Niall could’ve done any of those things to me - especially after he’d controlled his anger. But there was still that lingering feeling that the old Niall was still in there somewhere, waiting for me to trigger it. Yet still, I felt stupid for hurting myself.
I let my finger trace the line, still a bit sore. It’d been a fairly shallow cut, but that didn’t keep it from having the same effect on me. Now, the reasons for my self-harm seemed ridiculous and unnecessary. I rested my hand over it, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. The boy who’d made me feel out of control had started to become my friend. Niall, who’d seemed like he hated me, now was acting as if I was actually a human being.
Was that what I’d wanted all along? To be treated like a human being? Not just like some punching bag, there for his personal abuse. I wanted to be treated right by Niall. By Niall. I realized that I didn’t care what everyone else did to me, I just cared that Niall was treating me right. What did that have to say about me?
I shook my head to clear it, then finished undressing myself as the shower heated. I stepped in and let the water wash over, the steam clearing my lungs and mind. All thoughts of Niall left me at that moment, and I focused on the water pounding gently on my back.
About thirty minutes later I stepped out, my skin tinged red from the heat of the water. I dried myself off and pulled on a pair of gray sweatpants along with a peach colored sweatshirt and black socks. I let my hair dry naturally, the water turning it an even deeper shade of brown than what it already was. My eyes were heavy, though it was only about five o’clock. I’d been through a lot in these past few days, and I was ready for a long break.
I shuffled down the stairs and into the living room, the couch welcoming me with open arms. I gratefully dove into the cushions and pillows, burying my head into the comforting smell of my own home.
It felt odd to say ‘my own home’. No, I didn’t own the house, and no, I didn’t pay for the expenses. My parents had jobs for that. Both of their jobs just took them in separate directions, leaving me here to finish school and tend to the house. They came and went - the longest they’d stopped by in about five months was a week, and that was for Christmas. I was left to live on my own, so I had to deal with my own problems. My self harm had just been the answer to most of them.
I sighed into the pillow I was holding, wanting to just fall asleep. I’d have to get my phone from Niall’s later, once I’d given him enough time to cool off. From my knowledge of him, cooling off took a fairly long time. Plus, who was I going to text? My parents didn’t call home, and no one beside Niall had my number.
