Sincerely, Niall [z.h.] ✔

Friday April 25, 2013

Dear Zayn, 

    It's been a while, hasn't it? I apologize for that, I've just been really busy. Where to start? How about therapy? 

     I went last Thursday, and Ms. James asked me if I was still writing letters to you. I didn't answer because I knew she'd yell at me again if I said yes. But I didn't want to lie to her, either. She told me to give her the book. I didn't know what to do. She'd hit me before, who says she wouldn't do it again? But at the same time, I didn't want her to read the letters again. 

     I ended up not giving it to her, and she yelled at me again, pushing me out of my chair and driving the pointy heel of her shoes into my side. Those things hurt really bad, makes me glad that we're both guys and don't have to worry about wearing those nasty things. Not to mention they made the perfect weapon in case we ever got into a fight. 

     I laid on the floor and cried while she read through what horrible things I had written about her. She yelled at me some more, telling-or should I say reminding?-me again how you didn't love me. I didn't respond to her, and that made her madder than she already was. She kicked me at least three more times before I started bleeding. When she saw the red splotch forming on my t-shirt, her eyes widened in horror. 

     She quickly grabbed some tissues and pressed them to my wound while I continued to cry. I squirmed a lot because she had her filthy hands on my hips, and she only kneed me in the jaw to make me stop. I'd never felt so weak and powerless before, and I don't think I liked it. 

     While this all happened, I started to reach out to you in my mind. I tried to, anyway. I begged you to come and save me. I pleaded for you to come barging through the doors and throw Ms. James away from me, maybe even give her a blow in the stomach. 

     But you didn't. 

     I almost felt like I knew you weren't going to come, but when you didn't, I felt awful. It was worse than when she had kicked me. It was worse than when she put her hands on me. A part of me broke, and I knew it wouldn't be fixed without you here. 

     I need you, Zayn. 

     I need to know you still love me. 

     I need to know that I'm not alone. 

     I need to know that you're okay. 

     Zayn, please come home. I'm scared. 

 

     You may have noticed the gap I left there. It wasn't an accident, I did that on purpose. That's because I left after I wrote that and now I'm writing some more because the letter was way too short. Plus, I have more news. 

     On Tuesday Louis and Harry came over here. We played some Mario Cart, just like when you were here. You were always the best at the game, so to have Harry win was weird. You weren't there with your goofy grin and your laugh as you crossed the line. You weren't there to kiss away the pout on my lips as I lost like always. I'll admit, it made me want to cry. But I didn't because the other boys were there. 

     After that we went to a restaurant, IHop or something like that. I left a note for you just in case you came home while we were out-which you didn't. The food was awful. Or maybe it was just because I didn't like not being home to wait for you. Either way, the food didn't stay in my body for very long. It all came up ten minutes after Louis and Harry dropped me back off at my house. 

     I grabbed Mr. Fluffybutt and sat down on the couch to wait for you. I remember when you got Mr. Fluffybutt. It was a carnival. Cliche, but I loved it. You won it for me on the ring toss, a fuzzy penguin. We couldn't decide on a name, and you just kind of threw it out there as a joke, but I decided that, yeah, he did have a pretty fluffy butt. 

     Anyway, I must've fallen asleep some time around at three in the morning because I woke up screaming. It was an awful dream. You were there, and you had just gotten back from wherever you had come from, you wouldn't tell me where. But there was something different about you, you weren't the same. Your eyes weren't warm and bright. You weren't smiling. You didn't laugh. You hardly looked at me, nor did you even come close to kissing or hugging me. 

     When I asked you what was wrong, you told me that you hated me. That you had never loved me. That I was stupid and ugly. A waste of space. Didn't deserve to live. 

     Now, this wouldn't be such a big deal if a stranger had told me. But this was coming from you, and it drove daggers through my heart. Would you be like that when you come back? Will you still love me when you return? Regardless of the answer, I will always love you. 

I love you, Zayn. 

Sincerely, 

Niall