I sit with my head between my knees, phone pressed to my ear. The rings of the dial seemed to echo in my ears with each passing minute and I rock on my heels anxiously as I wait for an answer. "Hello?" My breath gets caught in my throat, stopping me from answering. "Hello?" They asks again.
I clear my throat, forcing the one word I had been nervous to utter. "Mom?"
"Jamie, baby, is that you?" She asks and I feel my tears begin to slip down my face. It had only been a week. Had she really forgotten her own daughter's voice?
"Y-Yeah b-but I've just now r-realize how big of a m-mistake it was t-to call you," I tell her weakly before hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room, hearing it bounce against the carpet. I sob into my forearms and when my door squeals open, I look up to find my dad in the doorway. "W-What?" I wonder when he looks at me with worry.
"Are you okay, darling?" He asks and I merely shake my head. "What's wrong?" He asks, moving toward my bed and taking a seat on the corner.
"I c-called mom," I whisper. "She barely r-recognized my voice," I then break into sobs and my father comes to my side, pulling me into a hug. I sob into the red plad of his flannel as he rubs my back, sending me reassuring words. "I just-- C-Can you tell me why she went?"
When I pull myself out of his hug to look up at him, I find his face pained. "It's a long story but I'll keep it short." He sighs, breathing shaky as he runs a hand through his hair. "She found out I cheated on her," Anger runs hot through my veins and my father must see it in my eyes from the way he continues quickly. "It was a mistake, I realize that now. I told Sarah to stay with me until you went off to college, just so you could have that, be happy until then but she wasn't having it. I know that you're eighteen and you're not a little girl anymore, Jamie but I just wanted you to have a healthy family and I couldn't even give you that," When I look up at my father again, I see tears twinkling in his eyes which breaks my heart. "You have to forgive me, Jamie. I can't have you leaving me too,"
"Sh-She told me she's never going to come back," I whisper, wiping more of my own tears away.
"I know, baby, I know. I know I don't deserve her but you do. Okay, love? You deserve her. You deserve to have a wonderful mother like her,"
"Stop romanticizing her," I mumble. "You're making it sound like she's this award-winning mother when really, she's anything but. If she was this all powerful amazing mother that you're making her out to be, she wouldn't have left. She wouldn't have left me with one measly phonecall and think that that was alright. I would've at least expected her to bloody visit me!"
"Bloody? What's with the new vocabulary, Jamie?" My father asks and I feel a blush form on my cheeks.
"I've been hanging around with my friends a lot. They're from England and--"
"They seem like nice boys. But if any of them hurts you in any way," He shakes his head, possession twinkling in his eyes, throwing out the tears and I roll mine.
"Harry's not going to hurt me. He's been treating me like a princess,"
"Harry seems like a nice boy," My father agrees. He then pets my hair and kisses my forehead. "Are you going to be okay?" He asks in a whisper.
"I should be. Thanks, Dad," I say and shoot him a sweet smile. He returns one before walking out of my room, leaving me alone. I pull out my laptop, setting it on my thighs and shake the mouse to awake it. When I am logged into my writing website, I pull up a status. Drama drama drama. You know what that means. Update. -Jai xx After posting this, I head into a new chapter. fingers flying across keyboard and halfway through, my phone starts to ring from across the room. I leave it be, expecting it to be my mother and continue on. When a forth phonecall arises, I groan with frustration and crawl over to my phone where I find it laying atop a pile of dirty clothes. To my surprise, I find Harry's name on the caller ID. "Hello?" I answer hesitantly.
"Oh JamieLamie, thank god you picked up. Can we have a talk?"
"Sure. What's up?" I ask, heading back to my bed.
"Like, in person?" He asks, voice grave and serious. I raise an eyebrow and agree, sliding on some shoes before slipping past my dad and walking out the door.
"What's going on, Harry?" I ask with confusion when I find him standing in front of the cafe, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't answer, eyes flitting down to my thighs which held dozens of cuts and I feel anger start to pulse through me again. "Can you not?" I snap, hands balled into fists.
"But that's exactly what I wanted to talk about," He tells me and I feel fear course through my body.
"What're you talking about?" I whisper.
"You know, I would've figured you'd be the one to tell me, not Niall," He continues, looking hurt as he looks down at my wrists. I feel all color drain from my face and I curl my fingers around my hoodie sleeves. "How deep, Jamie?" He asks. It scares me, the way he didn't call me JamieLamie like he always did and I feel tears bubble in my eyes.
"N-Not that d-deep," I whisper. "Not as deep as l-last time," When asked to see them, I shake my head. "N-No,"
He comes over to me, pulling me into a hug and asks, "Why do you do this to yourself? Why would you ever think that hurting yourself would ever be an okay thing to do? Do you know how much it pains me to see you like this? To see the scars on your wrists and thighs. The guilt running through me when I think God, why wasn't I there for her? The way I can see right through your fake smiles. The way I watched you lie straight to my face,"
I cringe at his words, never looking at it that way and say, "It's a constant battle in my head, Harry. You wouldn't get it and I pray you never will. It's like, whenever something goes wrong, I always think it's something I did. I-- It's so hard to explain Harry and in all honesty, I don't want to explain it. I don't want you to know about the darkest part of my mind because you deserve to be happy with a girl who's much better than me. Someone who can make you happy and not make you feel sick with guilt. I didn't want to lie to you. I just-- I wanted to protect you. I didn't want to distract you with my problems. I'm just one huge problem and I didn't want you to deal with it," By now, I was sobbing and Harry pulls me to his chest again.
"Sh, baby, it's alright," He whispers. "You just-- It kills me inside to see you like this. I want you to feel better. I don't want you to be suffering. I need you to know that I'm here for you no matter what. No matter what those hate comments say. You're so much more than those nasty people's words. You're everything they say you're not. You're fantastic and wonderful and beautiful and an amazing writer. You're everything I look for and more,"
"Th-Thanks, H-Harry," I murmur into his chest.
"Do you want to spend the night at the hotel with me and the boys?" He asks and I nod, quickly although I can't help but think He doesn't trust me alone. He helps me into the car, smiling as he turns on the radio and one of the boys' songs comes on. I sing to it softly and I watch as Harry drums his fingers on the steering wheel softly as he drives.
"I've never been to one of your concerts before." I say suddenly at a red light. "You know, I've always wanted to but I always figured you'd foret me; I'd just be another face in the crowd. But this-- meeting all of you personally, hanging out with you almost every day, it's unreal and the best thing that could ever happen to me,"
"I know," He murmurs, kissing my temple before pulling outside of the hotel. The two of us head inside, taking the elevator to the top floor, fingers intertwined.
"I'm really sorry I lied to you like that," I mumble, feeling ashamed as I stare at the floor.
Harry then tilts my chin up with his finger, forcing me to meet his gaze. "It's okay, love. I understand." He tells me before opening the hotel room door and motioning for me to walk inside. When the boys find me standing bashfully in the doorway, they all burst into smiles and I take a seat next to Zayn, smiling lightly.
"Hey," He greets me as he holds a game controller between his hands. I send him another soft smile in reply and cuddle into Harry's chest when he pulls me into it.
"Ya know, Zayn. I think JamieLamie can beat your ass at this game." Harry says, tone boasting and I feel a blush creep onto my cheeks.
"Oh I doubt it," I reply shyly and Harry sends kisses down my cheek and neck, as if to encourage me. "I mean, I guess I could try," I continue doubt leaking through my tone as he hands me a controller. The thing is small in size, a sleek black and cold against my small fingers. "What game is this?" I ask and when Zayn sputters a title, I nod, not recognizing it at all. As the game continues, I keep losing and by the time it's done, Zayn is hooting with victory. "Yeah yeah," I mumble and Harry tilts my chin up again to kiss me.
"How about I call room service? We can all have dinner together," Harry suggests and the five of us nod.
Harry heads over to the hotel room phone and Niall takes the spot beside me, offering me a gulty smile. "Niall, leave me the fuck alone," I growl, scooting away from him. "I know it was you. Harry told me. You fucking asshole." I continue, shooting him a glare and Zayn stares at us in wonder. "Don't worry about it," I mumble and when I look over at him, I find his chocolate brown eyes locked on my scarred thighs. My hands go numb with total anger and I stand up quickly, getting all of their attention. "You can all stop staring now, you know? I've fucking had enough. I've had enough of you all staring. Yes, I have dozens of fucking scars on me because I self harm. No need to make me feel like complete shit about it because I already do. Do you really think I like when people stare at my scars? No, I don't and to have you guys, my closest friends doing it too? It pisses me the fuck off so please, just don't,"
By now I was crying again and Harry comes to my side, pulling me into a hug and mumbling, "Oh babe," under his breath as he rubs circles into my back.
Once my sobs turn into sniffles, I pull away from Harry and turn toward the boys again. "I'm sorry I yelled at you guys but I'm just really frustrated but it's not with you. It's with my mom. I-I called her and she barely recognized my voice. That's what I'm pissed about. It's nothing you guys did," I mumble. I then slump back down in my original spot, curling my knees to my chest and staring at the floor. "If you're going to keep staring at me until I allow you to talk to me, then just start talking to me. I just-- I want to get this over with, Niall," I say.
The blonde boy bobs his head, trying to think of something to say before starting. "I'm worried about you. That's why I told Harry. I hate seeing you do this to yourself. I'm a hypocrite for telling you to stop, I know that," When I look at him with confusion, he pulls up his bracelets, revealing dozens of scars and my eyes widen. "I don't want your pity just like you don't want mine. So, I'm just saying, Jamie, please don't do this because all it does is hurt the people around you,"
"I don't want to hurt you guys," I murmur.
"We know you don't." Niall agrees.
"So I-- I--" I run a hand through my hair, trying to collect my thoughts. "I'm going to try and stop. For you guys b-but I can't p-promise. I'm gonna-- I'm gonna call you guys next time," I say suddenly and a small smile takes over Niall's face.
"Good," He says and I lock my eyes on the TV screen, wanting to forget about all of this.
Hey guys. So I usually don't update this early but I decided what the hell and did it anyway. I hope you guys liked it and please continue to comment because I love reading all of them and hearing what you guys think.
(Unedited. I'll edit everything eventually, I promise)