I sat on that bucket in that closet for what felt like hours. I finally get up feeling like I was going to vomit. I rush to the bathroom, and oh, great, I do. Peachy. Just peachy. I was able to get out of school due to my sickness.
When I reach my house I sit there and cry, until I literally can not cry anymore. I could'nt believe I broke up with him. At least now he'd be safe, without my life to screw him up. He'll be better off without me. I'll be worse. I sit in my flat for the rest of the week, sick. Love sick. I don't answer my phone. I don't leave the house. I ignore it when somebody knocks on my door. I must have thirty missed calls from Liam. Even a few from Harry. I don't care.
And Friday, I felt worthless. I see the picture of my parents dancing again, and just break. I run to the bathroom and pick up my razor, making deep cuts on both wrist. I washed them off, watching the pool of blood surround them.
Saturday I wrote in a notebook about everything I was feeling.
I hate myself. Christa threatened to kill Liam and I if I didn't break up with him. That was the worst decision I've ever made, because I did. She held a gun to my head, and I had silently been praying Liam wouldn't hate me. I've been home for a week nearly, so love sick. I don't eat much anymore. I feel skinny; that's a first. I hope he won't talk to me, I can't explain without getting our heads blown off. I punished myself today. I know I promised, but it was a lie. Just like when Liam told me everything will be easier with him around, and I won't get bullied. That was a lie. At least he didn't know it would be a lie. I knew when I promised Zayn. I feel so empty. What can I do?
Now it's Sunday. I rarely ate. At least I was becoming thinner. I must've lost ten pounds. I gave Olly his food though, nobody should ever feel the pain I've been through. I was sitting on the couch, just petting Olly when somebody knocks on my door, loud and hard. "Emily! Open up! We need to talk." I could reconinize that husky British accent from anywhere. Liam freakin' Payne.
I run to my bedroom, and close the door. I even hide under the bed, I don't want to speak to him. I hear a lock click, and a door open, and hide under more. I hear more shouts. "Emily! Please, just let me talk to you! I need to know what I did wrong! Please." The last part was a whisper. "It's not you, It's me!" I manage to choke out, but wish I hadn't of said it. "Aha!" Liam says as he opens my bedroom door and spots me under my bed. "No! G-go away Liam!" "Please Emily. Don't make me drag you out of there." "I'd like to see you try." I scoff.
"Okay then, have it your way." Liam says, and grabs my wrist, dragging me out from under the bed. I felt dizzy. First of all, he forgot about my arm, and that killed me. Second, my new cuts were so deep and not really cleaned all that good, they began to bleed again. Tears blurred my vision as I struggled to fight through the intense pain.
Liam slowly curses under his breath. "Oh god Em, I forgot about your arm, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" I nod slowly and pull my jacket sleeves down, hiding my wrists, but he notices.
"Emily? Did you-?" A single tear streams down his face. I nod very slowly. "Zayn says you promised." He says, another tear streaming down. I nod. "I know. That promise is one I'll never be able to keep." I avoid eye contact with him, and sit on my bed. "How did you get in here?" "Spare key under the doormat. Pretty obvious." Liam answers, sitting down.
I know it was rude for me to say it, but it just comes out. "Why are you here?" I whisper, tears flowing silently down my face.