Skye's POV
I rummage through a shopping bag I haven't unpacked, and find a huge amount of art supplies I don't remember buying... Niall must've got them. I find a little blue pencil sharpener. It'll work.
"Skye, I-I'm sorry.." Niall says, pacing outside my door. I say nothing. I look around, grimacing at the white carpet. I sigh to myself before opening the door and walking past Niall. "Skye please-" He puts a hand on my shoulder to slow me down, and I shrug him off before closing the bathroom door and locking it behind me. I grab a pair of tweezers from a drawer and sit down in the empty bathtub. Quiet sobs escape me as I unscrew the blade.
Niall knocks on the door.
Niall's POV
Skye walks by me and into the bathroom, but not before I notice the small blue object in her hand. A pencil sharpener? My breath catches in my throat. A pencil sharpener.
I knock on the door. "Skye, what are you doing??" I ask, and I hear her sniffle as something plastic hits the ground. "Skye, let me in, please." I say more firmly.
She sniffles again.
I slam my fist against the door. "Skylar, open the door now." My voice grows louder. There's a sinking feeling at the bottom of my stomach. "Skye! Please. Don't. Hurt. Yourself." I'm almost yelling at this point.
"You've already done that," She says quietly, her voice a whimper.
I slam my fist into the door again. "Skye, I'm sorry, Okay? I didn't mean it. I'm a dumbass. Just please, don't hurt yourself."
No response.
"I said I was going to help you, Skye, I can't let you do this." My voice cracks. I hear her whimper again. "Skylar!" I yell, before throwing my shoulder into the door. It doesn't open.
Something metal clatters on the ground.
I back up, ramming my shoulder into the door as hard as I can. It opens, and I stumble into the bathroom. I look down and see her curled in a ball in the bathtub. She looks up at me, her eyes red-rimmed with tears. She holds her wrist, and I see blood.
"I-It didn't feel right.. I-It didn't help.." She says quietly, before looking down and taking her hand off her wrist. Two open cuts flaunt themselves at me, guilt suddenly burning inside me. "I'm sorry Niall." She whispers. I pick her up gently, leading her over to the sink. I turn on the tap, and run her wrist under the water as I fumble through my medicine cabinet. I pull out one of those big bandaids, and gently press it over the cuts.
"I'm sorry," She whispers and I look up at her.
"Don't be sorry for anything." I say. "It's not your fault. Nothing is your fault." I apply pressure to the bandage.
"It's not your fault either, Niall." She says quietly, and I frown. I know she's wrong, but if I say anything it will end up just like before. There is a silence, before she speaks up. "It didn't help."
"What do you mean?" I ask, giving her a quizzical look. How is cutting herself supposed to help in the first place?! She pulls up the sleeve on her other wrist, examining the marks on her skin. "It used to help me, Niall." she says, and a tear slides down her cheek. I use my thumb to wipe it away. She lets in a shaky breath.
"When people kept hurting me.. The pain didn't stop. But I.." She pauses, shaking her head. "It sounds stupid, it really does. But when I hurt myself, it felt good to control the pain. It let me feel more superior to those people who hated me. I-I don't know." Her gaze drops to her hand as she fidgets with the hem of her sweatshirt.
"I understand." I say, and she lifts her head. She looks at me, and smiles weakly. I place my hands on her shoulders, standing in front of her, my eyes locked on hers. "Skylar, you are the strongest, most intelligent and most beautiful girl I know. If anyone ever tells you different, let me know and I'll knock some sense into them. Okay?" I say, and Skye grins before flinging her arms around my neck.
"I love you Niall. I couldn't ask for a better friend." She says into the crook of my neck, and I wrap my arms around her back. "I love you too, Skye." I say, and we stay in eachother's hold for a minute before Skye sighs.
"It means freedom." She says as she pulls out of the embrace. I raise an eyebrow. "What... does?" I ask, and she taps her hand on her back.
"My tattoo. I got it about a month before I graduated, because I was finally going to get out of that hell-hole." She chuckles humorlessly and rubs the back of her neck. "I thought that once I left, things would get better." She pauses. "He died a couple weeks before I graduated."
I instantly know she's talking about her dad. I pull her back in to a hug, and I kiss the top of her head. "Don't worry, Skye." I say and she sniffles.
"You're free now."