Poisoned With Love


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2. 2.

I woke up to a banging on our door. I rolled over and fell off the bed. I let our a groan of pain. I heard a chuckle from the bed across the room. The lights came on. I saw Zayn sit up. I was already on my feet. He stood up and his torso were covered in bruises. His arm was decorated in tattoo's. We grabbed our clothes in silence and were led out to the washroom.  I showered and changed. I was taken back to my room. Zayn was already there lying on his bed. 

"Morning." He said. 

"Morning. How did I get back in my bed?" I asked. His perfect lips split into a smirk. 

"I put you there. You fell asleep on me." He said. I blushed a deep red. He chuckled. Before I could say anything a lady stepped into the room. 

"Time for group therapy. Follow me." She said. I froze. Groups of people that had to know my story. Why I was here. It scared me. I felt a hand grab onto mine. I looked at it then followed it up the arm to the person who it belonged to. Zayn had his head facing the direction we were facing in a slight pink color rose to his cheeks. I held on tighter. He had a small smile across his face. We entered the room. I saw 4 boys that I didn't know the man from last night as well as a woman. My mum and dad then my best friend Mitchel.

"MITCHY!" I screamed. He smiled. I ran at him. I soon was wrapped up in his strong arms, inhaling the very familiar scent. I looked over to see Zayn in the middle of a group hug with the 4 boys. Thats when it hit me. These boys were One Direction. We were all directed to sit down. Zayn sat right next to me. The therapist was talking about something useless. I lent over to Zayn. 

"So when were you gonna tell me you were famous?" I teased. He chuckled.

"I thought it was common knowledge. Thanks for not freaking out." He said I simply nodded. We turned our attention back to the lady who was speaking. 

"-lets start with Zayn. Why don't you tell everyone how you feel." She said in a condescending tone.

"Pissed off." He stated flatly.

"Why?" She asked in the same tone.

"I might tell you when you stop talking to me as if I am a child." He spat getting more ticked off by the second she simply nodded. He continued."I'm pissed cause ever since the rope was cut people treat me like a child. I am 20 years old for gods sake. If I was a child then I wouldn't have purposely placed the rope around my neck and stepped off the chair. I'm pissed at the person who cut me down because I wanted to die, I wanted it to end, I knew why and what I was doing." He said in an angry tone. I could see tears start to gather in his eyes. I now saw the faint purple bruise under his jaw line on his neck. The lady turned to face me. 

"Annabelle your turn dear." She said. I rolled my eyes.

"It's Anna." I corrected.

"Okay Anna how do you feel?" She asked.

"Lonely, forgotten, worthless, useless, like if I were to die no one would care." I said. 

"Why?" 

"Because that's what I am, that's all I'll ever be. I don't even know why I'm here." I said. 

"Anna you are here because people care about you. Why don't you tell us about the events that led to your parents admitting you here?" She suggested.

" I was in the bathroom, throwing up. My mum had just made me eat a really big meal and I couldn't eat it. I would get fat. I threw up. I always take my shirt off when I do, then Mitchy walked in followed by my mum. I cut. I do it because it the only thing I feel. People at school are so cruel, it gets so bad that I come home feeling numb. I need a release. All the pain comes out in a fluid. They saw the scars and fresh cuts. And now I'm stuck here." I said. She nodded. I pressed back the tears in building up. I felt everyones eyes on me. I felt that warm hand slip into mine again. I knew this time that it was Zayn. He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. 

"Zayn why did you try to kill yourself?" She asked.

"Hate, other things." He said. 

"Care to elaborate." She told him.

"Well every day my twitter mentions fill up. Millions of people talk about me. Half of it hate. Everyday people tell me to die. They don't fucking know me. Just because of my religon I am a terrorist. Some days I can't walk down the street without a body guard in fear that someone is gonna kick the crap out of me. But that's not really a problem, I get enough of that at home. Getting kicked, punched,slapped, and tossed around since your 14 you tend to get used to it. Some days I don't even reckonize myself. Each time I lie to my mum to protect her. I fell, or sports, or crazy fangirls I do it just to protect her. I've been raised to learn that I'm nothing, I never will be. I've come to terms with it. Thats why? Any other questions because ask away! That's why I'm here right to talk about my problems till I'm fixed. That's it I need to be fixed to become what society thinks as normal. Well fuck it, fuck society, fuck this, fuck everything I don't give two shits anymore. Ever since I stepped off that chair I've stopped caring. So screw it!" Zayn didn't try to fight the tears. His father stood up.

"Stop your crying and yelling a grow the fuck up!" His voice boomed. Zayn was like a ticking bomb. And soon he was going to explode.....

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