Scars (Ziam)

By British-1D-Irish

57.6K 3.5K 2.6K

"Why do you love me?" "What do you mean?" "I have all these scars, littering my face. Imperfections. And you'... More

Freak
Insecurity
Rain Clouds
Writing Club
Highs and Lows
"To Be or Not to Be"
Night Out
The Dandelion
A Comfort
Drowning
Faces
The Ledge
No Nightmare
Friendly Acquaintances
Valentine Special!
The Truth
The Ember
A Friend
Questions and Answers
Shared Arts
Crushing Realizations
Resigned
Orchids
Second Session
The Reflection
Butterflies
On Thorns and Flames
Character Ask: Answers
Surrounded
Screening
Letters
Beauty in Hope
Amend
Truthful Session
Creative Arts
The Flat
Hangout
Beautiful
Worries
An Ease
Ease/Unease
Closer
Little By Little
To Be Happy
Healing
Confessions
Confidence
Author's Note
A Little Bit Okay
Author's Note: Story Voting
A Complex Emotion
Author's Note
Deserving

Moment of Weakness

929 63 56
By British-1D-Irish

So... update!

It seems some people really love this story, and I am so thankful for that love!

Warning: This chapter contains a description of a panic attack as well as flashbacks to a car accident. It also mentions depression and thoughts of giving up. Please read carefully, loves, and stay strong. 💕

Also, last chance for character ask questions. Leave any remaining ones, for ANY of the characters HERE!

Love you all. 🌹

Chapter 26:

   "Liam! Welcome back!" Laurence greeted as Zayn and I walked into the café. He was behind the counter, wiping it down, but he stopped what he was doing to approach me and shake my hand. His other hand gave me a pat on the back. "It's been hell without you, lad. My nephew did nothing but pout for days."

   "I did not," Zayn protested with a smile. "The customers still got a smile from me." He glanced at me. "I only pouted half the time."

  I felt my face heat up as I looked down at the ground. The butterflies in my stomach hadn't stopped, and I noticed that Zayn's hand was still firmly in my own. He made no move to pull away, but I broke our hands apart and tugged on my school bag.

   "I'll get started on some bread," I voiced, walking around Laurence and moving toward the back. However, his hand met my shoulder again.

   "I was actually wondering if you wanted to run the front counter today with Zayn," He suggested, looking at me with hope on his face. I froze at his suggestion. "I have a huge order to fill today and customer request forms to fill out in the back. Figured Zayn could use a hand up here while I'm back there."

   "I... I don't know if I can do that," I responded, closing my eyes gently.

  "You won't have to interact with the customers. You can just run the coffee station, and Zayn will handle the rest," Laurence tried, but I felt my whole body begin to shake. I didn't want to be where everybody could see me. Hiding in the back was like a little escape. I didn't have to look at myself, and I didn't have to see anybody else stare in horror.

  "I'll scare away the customers," I forced out.

 "Hey," Laurence said, turning me to him and speaking in a low voice that only I could hear. "I don't want those customers anyway. There is nothing wrong with who you are, Liam. Don't let those people scare you away into the darkness."

  I wanted to tell him that it was too late. They already have. Zayn could even attest to that. He saw how I could barely even look at myself.

  "I- I can't...." I trailed off, feeling tears well up in my eyes. I wanted to just lay in my bed again and waste the day away. Standing now was so much effort. Breathing was so much effort. "I'm sorry."

  I fought back the tears as best I could, but I felt one betray me as it slid down my cheek.

  "You don't have to be sorry, Liam," Laurence said. "You can sit in the back with me if you want. Zayn, do you think you can handle the front alone today?"

   "Why don't I fill the order and forms for you? You can man the front, and I'll stay with Liam in the back," Zayn suggested. "I really need to use my baking skills before they get rusty."

   His uncle was silent, and I didn't dare open my eyes. They were probably having some sort of silent conversation with their facial expression, and I felt worthless. I couldn't even handle such a simple task. I couldn't handle being alone. Everyone always felt like they had to watch over me, but I couldn't blame them. My mind was becoming increasingly terrifying with every passing day.

   "Okay. Sounds like a plan. You boys go ahead to the back. And don't burn anything, Zayn!" His uncle warned as we walked to the back room, Zayn's hand on my shoulder where his uncle's used to be. It was a supportive touch, but I wanted to run away from it. I wanted all of the emotions to just end.

   As soon as we entered the back room, I became dizzy. I dropped down to the floor beside the wall, curling in on myself and hugging my knees close to my chest, which was rising and falling at an alarming rate. I shut my eyes, hands tugging at my hair slightly as I let out a heavy, choked sob. Everything hurt so much, but it was also such a numbing feeling on the surface. It was a deep ache that didn't make any sense. Still, it hurt all the same.

   "It's alright, Liam. Breathe slowly, love. Please," Zayn said. I was vaguely aware of him bending down in front of me, face level with my own, but everything was all hazy as my mind threw insult after insult at myself, harassing and attacking me with such dark thoughts.

   Why was I alive? All I did was cause trouble for others. I was only a burden. I was a walking ghost of someone who should have passed on already. I was worthless. I had nothing to give, and all I ever did was take. All I ever did was make other people stress and worry when they shouldn't even give a damn about me in the first place. Why did they care? Why did I care? Why did it all still hurt so much when I wanted nothing more but to shut everything off and just be numb.

   I wanted to shut my eyes and never have to open them again. I wanted to magically rewind time-- not climb into the car on that infamous night. I wanted to see my mum and ask her why she had to do it. I wanted to shout at her. This was her fault. All of it. She didn't care. She laughed. She laughed, and it was one of the last things I heard that night before the horn blared and everything went dark. Nothing but stinging, burning pain and cries that were too weak to leave my barely breathing body.

   "I- I- I c-can't," I panted out, trembling uncontrollably as the scene played over and over behind my eyes.

   Bright white lights, a car horn honking in a continuous warning, tires screeching to a desperate halt, not enough, glass shattering, cuts all across my face as a strange liquid ran down it, a metal pipe shooting through my side, pining me to my seat as if my seat belt wasn't doing the work already, the car spinning before landing on its side, a mouth opening to yell but no sound escaping, Ruth's whimpers as her arm was trapped under my side-- my good side, Nicola's scream as she looked at our mother, blood running down light brown hair, my dad trying to open his car door to call for help. It all came in one rush; one flash of memories. Searing each moment into my brain. It was a nightmare on repeat, but the nightmare was real.

   "Liam, listen to my voice, okay? Listen. In... and out. C'mon, love."

   I heard his voice, but it was so far away. It was muffled by the loudness shooting through my mind. It opened, but nothing came out. A car horn blocked out everything else. Then, Nicola's scream as I saw my mum's head leaned over the steering wheel. Then, pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Until I faded.

  "...five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," I heard Zayn's voice count steadily. "Count with me, Liam. One, two, three, four..." He continued on, and I heard the numbers. I heard them, but I still felt trapped.

   One. My mother's laugh. Two. The car horn. Three. The squeal of the tires. Four. The glass shattering....

   "Hello? Yes, I need an ambulance," I heard Zayn's voice say. "Uncle!" I heard him call, and then he was speaking to me in a low voice. "Breathe with me, Li. Slowly. It's okay. It's just me and you, yeah? It's safe."

   I wanted to do as he said to stop hurting him, but my chest was aching immensely, and I couldn't get a good breath in. Everything was still flashing behind my eyes, and when I opened them everything was distorted and blurred. My eyes searched around the room frantically, trying to find something familiar, but even when I looked at Zayn, I couldn't calm myself down.

  "Talk to them," I heard Zayn say to his uncle as he passed him something. Something told me it was a phone, but I couldn't focus enough for the thought to reach the surface of my consciousness.

   "Z-Zayn," I cried out, and he quickly turned back to me. I gripped his arm tightly, unable to control anything properly.

   "I'm here. I'm here, Li. Breathe with me, yeah? In... and out," He tried again, and I did my best to focus on his lips, trying to follow his breaths. "Good. You're getting it, love. You're safe. You're safe here. Okay? I will never let anything or anyone hurt you, Liam."

   It felt like the longest panic attack I've ever had, but I finally got my breathing under control. I followed Zayn's breathing patter, hands gripping at his arms, probably painfully, but he never let up. He stayed by my side and breathed with me. My body was still trembling and tears poured down my cheeks, hot and heavy. From what, I was unsure. Embarrassment? Disappointment? Anger? Agony?

  I heard the sirens approaching, and I flinched violently at the sound of the doors opening. Two EMTs rushed into the room, and they were right by my side in an instant. Zayn moved away from me to let them in, and I felt a rush of panic sweep over me again as my hands flailed out for him.

  "It's okay, Liam. I'm here."

  I felt his hand hold onto mine, and I squeezed tightly as the female EMT began to ask me some questions while her partner wheeled in a trolley for me to lay on. She helped me stand after asking if I could, and I seemed to underestimate my abilities as the room spun and my legs gave out. The ground came closer to me, but I was caught by strong arms around my waist.

   "I've got it." Zayn's voice.

   I was led over to the trolley, and I was laid down on it. I was fixed to it and then wheeled out of the cafe. Zayn was by my side the entire time. I still felt light-headed, but the exhaustion from all of the exertion was weighing down on me.

  "Go with him," I heard Laurence say, but I could hardly concentrate on any one thing. "Just text me his family's number, and I'll let them know."

   I was wheeled into an ambulance, and I felt a tear run down the side of my face as the bright light of the truck lit up my face, making every scar perfectly visible in the harsh white. I shut my eyes, feeling a nurse lift at my arm, telling me something about checking blood pressure, but all I could think about was how being saved was the worst hell.

-----

     I opened my eyes to a blaring white light shining above me. I squinted at it, and then I heard the sound of steady beeping. I looked around, seeing a heart monitor with valleys and hills of green, a band around my arm and a monitor on my finger. I let out a slight whimper as guilt flooded within me.

  "Liam," I heard Nicola's voice. I turned to see her at a chair by my bedside. She stood up and rushed over to me. "It's okay. I'm here. You had us all worried sick."

  Her voice was strong, as if unaffected, but I wasn't fooled. I could see the slight darker tinge to her eyes.

"Zayn?" I wondered. He was the last person I remembered being with me. He held my hand in the ambulance, and he stayed by my side. I didn't remember knocking out, but I did remember feeling overly exhausted.

   "He went to get some tea," Nicola explained, and it made my eyes sting just to know that he stayed. "Ruth and dad were working, but they're on their way. Left their jobs as soon as they heard. Ruth told me about it. Got a call from Zayn's uncle. They're good people."

   I stayed silent, drowning in my guilt. I heard Nicola sigh after a moment of only the heart monitor beeps filling the room.

  "Liam, you had a really bad panic attack. Just like the ones you used to have right after the accident."

  Again, I remained silent.

  "How often do you have these attacks? Is there something that triggers the panic you feel or is it more of a random notion of-"

   "I don't need you to diagnose me," I croaked out. My voice felt raw, throat feeling dry.

   "I'm only trying to help."

  "Sometimes I just wish you'd be my sister. Not my therapist. I already have one."

  "Liam, I-" She began, but her words were cut off as the door was being pushed open and Ruth was rushing inside.

  "Liam, I was worried sick," She cried out, rushing over to me and taking a good look at me. Her eyes searched my face for any signs of discomfort before she leaned in and hugged me tightly. "I left work as soon as I heard. Dad's on his way as well. Shouldn't be too long now."

   "You should have stayed at work. We can't afford for both of you to-"

   "Shush," Ruth ordered, fussing over the blanket around me. "You come first. We'll manage this month."

  "The rent and electricity and-"

  "We'll manage, Liam," She disrupted, looking me in the eyes with a smile. "Don't worry about a thing. All that matters is that you're okay."

   I didn't have the heart to tell her that I was far from okay. It wasn't even a word that I could use in a lie anymore. I was sure we all had memories that were not so fond in this hospital.

   "Do you need anything? Water? A snack? Fluffed pillow?" She wondered, and I slightly shook my head. She ran a hand across my cheek with a smile. "Just let me know."

   The door opened again, and this time it was Zayn and my dad walking through the door. I saw that Zayn had two cups of tea in his hand, both warm if the steam trailing out was any indication of the temperature. They were in the middle of a conversation, but they both stopped talking when they saw me awake.

   "Liam," My dad sighed out gratefully. He walked over to me and held my hand in his. I felt even worse as I saw his eyes begin to water as he looked down at me. "Thank goodness you're alright."

  "Dad...." I trailed off. There was nothing I could say to comfort him. It would only make me feel worse to lie to his face, and I knew my words wouldn't stop his worrying anyways. Regardless of how strained our relationship felt at times, I knew my father cared deeply about me. He always did his best to show that. I would only hurt him worse by explaining how I really felt.

  "Um, I," He sniffled, wiping at his eyes and rubbing his hands together. "I ran into Zayn here on the way up. You've made a great friend, Liam."

  Zayn was moving over to the hospital bed, putting it into more of a sitting position before handing me one of the glasses of tea.

  "It's chamomile," He explained, and I nodded as I accepted the glass. I took a sip of the tea, feeling the warm liquid soothe my dry throat. I felt the warmth spread throughout my body as if my heart was pumping it through every vein. And then I looked around the room as I lowered the glass.

  Zayn was smiling at me slightly, my father was taking a seat on the sofa in the room, Ruth was obsessively fixing my sheets, and Nicola was staring down at the ground. Even though they were all here, I could feel the overwhelming concern radiating off of each and every one of them. I caused that.

   "I didn't mean for this to happen," I whispered out. All of them turned to look at me. The sound of the heart monitor's beeping was like a constant reminder of where we were; why we were here.

   "Nobody's blaming you," Zayn spoke up, setting his glass of tea down on the table beside the hospital bed. He sat on the bed and took my hand in his, making me stare at our intertwined hands. I was aware that my family was here, but I didn't want to pull away from the touch. "We know that you didn't mean for this to happen, Liam. We're all just worried for you. We care about you, love."

   He was using the term of endearment so often, without fear, without even thinking about what it could mean to me. It was a stab in the chest everytime he said it, but it also made my heart swell.

   "We do. All we want is for you to get better. We're all here to support you," Ruth added, but she seemed to be staring at Zayn instead, a quizzical look on her face.

  "What if I'm too far gone? Like mum?" I whispered out the second part, but everyone heard me. Even my dad.

   "This isn't the same as your mum, Liam, and I am so sorry for ever comparing your mental health to hers," He said from where he sat, staring at his hands which were clasping onto each other. "I blame myself."

   He looked over us. Me, Ruth, Nicola. Zayn sat by idly on the bed, hand still holding onto my own like a lifeline.

  "If I would have pushed harder for her to get some help, then we wouldn't be here. If I would have driven that night... I am so sorry to all of you."

  He wasn't crying. He never wanted us to see him breakdown. He was our dad, and he was supposed to be our rock. That's how he saw it. I knew because I did catch him crying once, and he immediately wiped his face and plastered on a smile, asking how I was doing. He was also haunted by the memories, but he never let it hinder him. He had a job to do and kids to care for.

   "Dad, it wasn't your fault," Ruth said, moving over to join him on the small hospital sofa, an arm going around his shoulders as she rested her head on his shoulder like a little girl again. "It wasn't anybody's fault."

  Nicola stayed silent. She was still staring down at the ground, reserved ever since I snapped at her. I didn't offer up any words of comfort either because I didn't know what to think. I didn't think I blamed my dad at all, but did I entirely blame my mum? Placing blame wouldn't solve anything. I was still a scarred and disfigured mess.

  There was a knock on the door, and then the doctor was walking in. He smiled at my family, Zayn, and me.

  "Hello, everybody. I'm Doctor Ruben. How are you feeling, Liam?" He wondered, checking the chart at the end of my bed.

  I remained silent. I knew it was a routine question, but how was I supposed to answer it honestly without getting out on some kind of watch?

  "This one was different," Zayn said to the doctor. "I've been around him when he's had attacks before, but this one was worse. I couldn't get him to calm down. Not for a long time. I thought he was going to pass out."

  "So, you've had panic attacks before? How often would you say?" The doctor asked, and I nodded slightly.

  "We, um..." I began, trailing off due to nerves. Thankfully, Nicola spoke up for me.

  "We had an accident a while ago. It was a serious car crash, and it left Liam with some post-traumatic stress. He would panic anytime he was in a car or any time he was reminded of the accident. He used to panic by just looking in the mirror and seeing the scars left over. Ruth told me he only recently began to have them again. I imagine it's because he's going through therapy, and the process is forcing him to come to terms with the accident, remember it, and heal from it. Though, I'm not sure what caused this one."

   "My uncle suggested that he worked in the front with me today," Zayn informed.

   "Makes sense. He had an assignment this week from his therapist, um Dr. Phillips, and she wanted him to focus on his self-image," Nicola supplied to the doctor, and he nodded before turning back to me.

   "Well, Liam, we're going to have to run a few tests just to make sure there are no other underlying problems. If I may ask that everyone wait in the waiting room while the nurses work."

  They all agreed, Nicola squeezing my hand once before leaving the room. Ruth gave me a hug before walking out behind her, casting a glance back with an encouraging smile, and my dad reminded me that they would be here for as long as it took. Then, he walked out as well.

   I felt Zayn's hand squeeze mine again, and I looked at where he sat on the bed.

  "I'm sorry..." I began, "you shouldn't have had to witness that."

   It was awful for me to do that to Zayn; to his uncle. It sounded like they had such a busy day planned beforehand. I was actually just a liability to them.

  "You don't have to be sorry, Liam. I'm glad I was there. It means you didn't have to go through that alone."

   Again, he was sincere. Everything Zayn said was what he honestly felt. It was difficult to believe that there could be someone so genuine.

   Once more, I didn't have a thing to say. All that would come out would be questions, wondering why he stuck around with someone like me. He was far too good to be real. But he was.

  "We'll all be in the waiting room. We're not leaving, okay?" He said, giving my hand one final squeeze before he let go, making my heartbeat speed up in a slight panic at the loss of touch. He gave me a reassuring smile, and I stayed put as he walked out of the room and the nurses came in.

   Through all of the tests they performed, I could only think of the fact that I had so many people supporting me. I felt that I would only let them down.

  I could try. I could try a little harder for them. But I didn't know how much longer I could keep up the facade that I was even remotely okay with being alive.

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