Runaway Children

3 children, 2 grown-ups, 1 thing they have in common; their urge of running away from their problems.

When those 2 people divided by fame and sorrow meet again their worlds will be turned upside down, bringing back unwanted memories and digging up old graves.

Will Alexa and Louis find a way to cope with the pain of the past or will they forever remain what they are:

Runaway children....


9. And Darkness came


A/N~ I am putting a trigger alarm up for this chapter because it contains some pretty gruesome scenes. I’ve warned you OK


"Home at last!", Niall exclaims when I open the door to my house. 

I force out a fake smile, "Was it that bad?"

Niall pulls a face "It was worse! That girl she asked me 537 fucking questions! Didn't you even notice my facial expressions, trying to get some help from you, Mr. Stripes!"

I shrug, I did notice it but I was too caught up in my own thoughts about Alexa, about what she said to me. How could I even think that saying sorry would help. My apologies won't bring Dianne back to life. All the money in the world can't do that. No matter how much I would want it to. I wonder how my life would be if I wasn't such a woosie, if I wasn't so damn weak. Maybe then I wouldn't have done what I did, maybe then I and Alexa would actually... have a chance. 

No, don't fool yourself, Lou, you can't change the way you are neither can you turn back time. There is no chance what so ever there would ever even be an Alexa and I. The only reason she didn't kill you today was because her friend can't know the real me, the real me.. I have no clue who the real me actually is. 

Louis Tomlinson, 21 years old, born as Louis Troy Austin, son of Johanna  Poulston and Troy Austin, born in Doncaster on 24/12/'91 (age 21), part of the famous boyband One Direction, that are the facts, that's what Wikipedia tells me. What does Wikipedia actually know about me? 

"Lou are you OK?", Niall snaps me out of my thoughts. He sounds worried but his eyes seem to have another expression, one I can't really put my finger on.

"Yeah I'm fine.", I convince him though it isn't the truth and he knows it, "Are you going to stay here again?", I ask him making it clear that I don't want him to.

"Erm no I'm going to head home. Don't hesitate to call me when you want to talk. I'm here for you, oi." 

I grin at his Irish accent, it still cracks me up sometimes. “Yeah, I know. Bye…”

When the door slams closed it leaves me all alone with all of my thoughts and sorrow. The silence in my giant house feels almost comforting, the only sound that disturbs the intoxicating silence are my feet working their way upstairs to my room and even the faint sound of my feet hitting the stairs feels like a violent interruption of the peace that dominates everywhere.

I let myself fall down on my Superman bedspread, I have always loved Superman. He was my hero he was strong, he was all I wanted to be, but never could because I probably was… am the opposite of Superman. He saves people but doesn’t get the credits and I… I hurt people but still everyone seems to adore me.

Humans confuse me they don’t have the slightest idea of what is actually going on, yet they seem to have complete control over a whole planet. Who gave those lying backstabbing creatures the right to judge if someone is ‘good’ or ‘bad’, when all they do is judge wrong anyway.

I put my phone in its charger and check my Twitter like I do every night. The hate… it helps me cope with my conscious. It makes no sense I know but for some reason I just can’t stop myself from reading those things. I deserve the pain for what I did when I was younger. It’s like creating my own Karma. I want to feel what Dianne must’ve felt  that deciding night. But I can’t recreate pain, I can only guess the way it felt. The way it was tearing her up from the inside, like my guilt is doing with me.

Someone once told me everyone has their own way of coping with hurt. Mine is reading hate. Why? Because I am too much of a coward for anything else and when I would start doing drugs I would hurt innocent people again. Something I promised myself I wouldn’t do never again, not under any circumstances.  

@JessieAnnGulley: You’re a faggot @Louis_Tomlinson

@NoOneCares12: I don’t understand girls look up to @Louis_Tomlinson he’s obviously just another superficial popstar #idiot

@IMAHater: of all stupid stuck-up celebs @Louis_Tomlinson is probably the worst

The list went on and on, it seemed endless. I didn’t even notice I had started bruising myself until I felt a warm drop of blood dripping down my arm, very slowly.  

The bruise itself was quite big but the pain felt strangely releasing. I touch the sensitive spot with my finger, not trying to stop the bleeding but out of surprise. I don’t know I just thought that hurting myself would feel more painful but it didn’t. It’s not the pain that’s worse. It’s the numbness, the fact it doesn’t actually hurt that much. My inner pain feels so much worse than this little spot on my arm. It’s not enough.

Before I know what I’m doing I’m in the bathroom. My reflection stares at me. It blames me for everything, it wants me to stop now and to not go any further. But my reflection can’t do anything about my situation anymore. I made my decision already years ago, the moment I decided that it would be a good idea to bully along.

 I smack a bottle of Listerine against the wall and watch it shatter into a million pieces. The splinters glisten in the bathroom light.

I pick up one of the bigger shards and hold it against my side. By now I am fully aware of what I’m about to do but still I can’t seem to stop myself. The sharp piece of glass digs into my side, creating an explosion of feelings yet I still can’t feel a thing. I dig it a bit deeper. My thoughts make place for a predominating sensation of pain, finally. But still it isn’t enough and the shard digs even deeper in my flesh… too deep. My world starts spinning.

The splinter slides through my bloody fingers. I know I shouldn’t have dug that deep, but I don’t care anymore. My blood drips on the floor. I stumble back to my bed and lay down. I’m waiting for the pain to fade into the darkness of death.

I had never wanted to turn time back more than now, undo all what was did, be born again and this time I’d live my life right. I’d tell Alexa I’d loved her for every single minute of my life, I’d protect Dianne, I’d make sure no hurt ever got to her… I would’ve stopped her from digging that blade deeper and she would’ve done the same.

I wonder who will miss me when I’m gone. Not Alexa that’s for sure she will probably dance on my grave. It’s my fault, all my fault. My eyelids felt so heavy, so heavy. I just couldn’t hold them open anymore. It was so hard. The pain went numb, every one of my senses seemed to be screaming, yet I couldn’t hear anything anymore. The pain faded

And then the long-awaited darkness came as a welcome stranger it greeted me with it’s comforting touch. Reality faded with dream and then I finally gave up…



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