Lunatic (l.s)

Chapter 2- L

The second kiss wasn't so magical. It wasn't a pash, it was more of a friendly one, after he announced he had a girlfriend. Louis had congratulated him and tried to ignore the pain in his chest.

"thanks for being supportive," 

That was almost a year since the first drunken kiss and Louis was 150% sure that Stan didn't even remember it. Stan never kissed Louis after that, ever. We kind of fell apart. Their friendship was already frayed because of Louis' stupid little crush, but when the girls started coming and going, Stan basically forget Louis even really existed. That's when he decided to find something that'll make him forget Stan, even if it was for just a second. Louis tried everything, sleeping for almost an entire day at a time, and if he was awake, he'd sneak over to another mates house and get shitfaced. Somehow he'd always end up in bed crying though. It was around about year 11 when he met a guy called Xavier. Louis saw his scars and asked him what it was, and to his surprise, Xavier explained. Louis had fallen in love with what Xavier had described, and he had to try it. He spent that night in his bathroom, picking apart his razors and pressing the cold sheets of sharp metal against his skin. He let out little whimpers as he had felt his skin being sliced open, and the stinging made the corner of his eyes water. What came next, it was like being stuck out in the middle of an ocean, and then a wave comes crashing over you, knocking you out because of the force. It's what had happened when he noticed the amount of blood that was trickling down his soft and pale skin and he fell in love. He couldn't stop after that, even if he tried. He'd litter his body in them, just to watch the ruby droplets scatter the floor and the bottom of the shower, and watch it trickle down his arms and legs. The pain was like a drug, it numbed the cries in his head, it numbed the monsters clawing at him from inside. It only lasted not even half an hour, but it was enough to make him feel okay. He hid his cuts, surprisingly well. Always wearing oversized sweaters, sweat pants and bracelets and no one had even caught on. Not even his "best friend", or his mother but she found out soon enough.  It was so obvious that he was ruining himself, but everyone was so caught up in their own lives to even take a second to really see how fucked up Louis Tomlinson was, fucked up beyond repair. 

Louis was a goner and it was only a matter of time before he would cut too deep and put underground for good, he'd been counting down the days, and now this was it. Today was the day.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's been 4 years since he'd first discovered the gift of self harm. Louis is twenty-fucking-one, and it's around the Christmas holidays. His parents are out for the weekend, and his younger sisters are out at friends. He has the house to himself. His birthday is in 6 days. He thought he could make it to Christmas, maybe even the new year. But he knows if he tried any longer, his heart would give out any way. He's run himself into the ground now. He doesn't work, he's hopeless really. Stan hasn't contacted him in a while but Louis had learnt not to care. but honestly, deep down he really does fucking care. It's dark out now, and it's raining hard. There had been warnings about a storm coming, but Louis found rain and storms calming. It kind of set the mood really. On his bed is a bunch of things. He's still looking between the different options. 

There's an entire bottles of pills, he could down them all now, and then he'd go peacefully. 

There's some brand new razors, he could just cut the right way, vertically and he'd go slowly and relatively painfully. 

There's a rope, and it's tied into a loose noose and there's a chair in the corner of the room. He could hang himself. 

He's not feeling as frightened as he really should. He's switched off his phone, he's switched off the wifi, and disconnected the phone line. Even if he really wanted to save himself at his last moments, he couldn't really. This is finally it. He should be panicking but he isn't. He's completely calm, scarily calm as his fingers brush against the silver sheets of metal. It slices the tip of his finger but he just brings it to his mouth, sucking off the blood, without wincing. He blames the pills he had taken about an hour or so ago. Valium. It's a drug based purely to stop anxiety and panic. It puts you in a trance like state and Louis might have taken a handful, rather than the recommended 2.