Chapter Five; Intervention
The boys, even Niall, left me alone for the rest of the day and I had a certain feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach that Niall had betrayed me and told them. I was pissed, to say the least. I had entrusted Niall with one of my darkest, deepest secrets, and he had just gone around spitting it out to the boys as if it were nothing. A scowl was plastered on my face most of the day and, after such a conversation with Niall, a razor was involved, most definitely.
This was the first time I actually felt suicidal in quite a while. Normally, it never went that far, but this time it did. Nobody used to know that I cut myself, but they did have their suspicions, which was different. Now, five boys knew and how could I trust them to keep their secrets? They were probably just conceited pop stars for all I knew, and I didn't even know them and they knew secrets that made goose bump arise on other's skin when they think of what people do to themselves.
Sighing, I took the pocketknife once more in my hand, and tightened my grip on the handle before digging it into the skin of my wrist, deeper than normal for the wrist. Gritting my teeth, I felt the warm blade and it felt nice and relieving. Sighing, I looked at the blood trickling out, crimson streaks staining my wrists.
{} {} {Niall's P.O.V} {} {}
I didn't know what to do about Skyler. She had problems, yes, and she didn't realize how pretty she was. I knew it wasn't just the Directioners that had so rudely insulted her the other day. Now knowing one of her secrets, I didn't realize how deep her problems sunk and it was scary to know what she did to herself. I couldn't keep this in to myself. How could she have kept this secret for so long?
Finally, I went up to where the other boys, as they were all gathered around the flat screen TV, watching The Walking Dead. They all were munching on popcorn and I rolled my eyes. For once in my life, my appetite wasn't hungering for food. I felt sick to my stomach from everything I had learned about Skyler. What else did she do to herself?
"Boys, I need to tell you something," I said. "It's urgent."
The seriousness of my tone must have alerted them that something was up as Liam paused the TV right in the middle of somebody decapitating another. Well, that was a nice image, especially what I learned about Sky. "What's up, Ni?" asked Louis, utterly confused as to what was going on.
"Um, I think Skyler abuses herself," I muttered, but I know they could all hear me loud and clear from how their facial expressions contorted from confusion to shock.
"W-What d-do you mean?" stuttered Harry, and I knew he well knew what I meant, but he just wanted some kind of proof for how I knew this.
"When we were in the car," I began quietly and all of their eyes urged me on. I felt extremely guilty for betraying Sky, but I had no choice. "And she was on my lap, I put my arms around her waist so she wouldn't, like, fall off. And, my fingers touched her stomach and she flinched away from me. I lifted her shirt up and there were scars everywhere on her stomach and I'm sure there are more on her wrists and thighs."
Zayn emitted a gasp. "We need to help her!"
"I tried to tell her that we were there for her and that we could help her and we could try and heal her cars," I paused here. This was the hardest part. I couldn't bear what I had heard that had come out of her mouth. "T-Then, she s-said that her depression was too deep and that she was b-broken beyond r-r-repair and that was the hardest thing to h-h-hear." I refrained from letting my eyes go glassy.
"We need to go in there! We shouldn't have left her alone!" Liam was officially flipping out, knowing she was so depressed with her life.
I nodded to confirm this and we all gathered together to start going to the room we had let her stay in. I went up and knocked on the door. "Skyler," I said. "We need to talk to you, love."
{} {} {Skyler's P.O.V} {} {}
Shit. Shit. Shit.
When Niall knocked on the door I had my bloodstained blade in one hand and a bleeding wrist on the other. I had tried to commit suicide. I admit it. Sliding the sleeve of my shirt down, I called, "Come in!" I didn't bother to put the razor away. They all knew what I did to myself, why must I hide it?
The door creaked open slowly and Niall's eyes met mine. His eyes flickered to the blade and fixated upon it, seeing the blood on it. Feeling self-conscious, I tucked the bleeding wrist, the blood now having soaked through the sleeve against my side, but he had already noticed the tiny movement. Coming over to me, the rest of the boys piled in. They also saw the blade and they seemed more in shock than Niall had.
"Sky, babe, we need to talk," Niall said.
Narrowing my eyes, I knew what was coming. Growling, I said, "No, we really don't."
"Yes, we do. Look at what you are doing to yourself! Show me your wrists!" he exclaimed to me and I glared at him before shoving the sleeves of my shirt up to reveal the soaking wrist with scarlet substance covering it. The other one was spattered with the same liquid but the scars were visible, some thick, some thin all the same shimmery silver color.
The boys looked in shock. The cuts extended up to just below my elbow on both sides, and there was around a total of forty cuts on each arm.
"Where else, Skyler?" he said gently, trying to coax me to show him everything. Hoisting up the hem of my shirt to just above my waist, I showed more skin that I would care to think about. There were more scars, and I even showed the one that Niall had touched that had revealed everything, the downfall of my secrets.
He touched it lightly and I winced, instinctively moving away from him, hissing in the slight pain the pressure caused. His stern gaze didn't even soften in the slightest. "Anywhere else?" he questioned.
"My thighs," I said quietly, my voice hoarse from the stress.
The other boys watched quietly. They didn't say a word as Niall gently traced his long fingers on my thigh, and I flinched every time he grazed any of the cuts, and wincing away in general from the abuse my father gave me. I moved further away from him, but he followed me anyways. "Why do you do this Skyler?" he asked genuine concern in his eyes.
"It makes me feel good about myself, like I am still…special enough to feel pain," I said, struggling to explain. "Do you kind of get where I'm coming from? I mean, like, it's like if I'm capable of feeling pain, then I am still alive for a reason... do you get it?" I asked, as I tried to tell them what I thought whenever I would harm myself. I never really thought how to phrase it, it was just an urging.
"You don't need to do that to feel good about yourself. You're special, and don't let anybody tell you differently," Niall said softly, frowning at how closed off I was being from him.
"Everybody tells me differently!' I blurted out.
"What do you mean?" he asked in confusion.
"I'm called fat and emo at my high school. Your fans hate on me. My dad even abuses me!" Shit. I didn't mean to say that last part and now I was in trouble.
"Your dad...What?" he continued onward.
This time I said it through gritted teeth, annunciating each word carefully, "My father abuses me."
"Why don't you report that to the police?"
"Because, he will always find me, he found me when my mother got into that crash and, oh my God!" I broke down, starting to hyperventilate. My chest heaved as I thought of my dad haunting my nightmares and finding me and abusing me and I couldn't calm down even if Niall was rubbing my back gently. The breathing just got heavier and heavier and a sweat broke out along my brow. I tore away from Niall and groped for my pocketknife.
Niall caught on to what I was trying to do and took it from me before I had the chance to take it and start on the addictive path down that road. "Skyler, calm down!" he ordered. I couldn't hear him, it sounded like he was far away and his voice was echoing. I stumbled around the other boys who were watching in shocked silence as I ran down the hallway into the kitchen. Swerving my gaze around, I finally found what I was looking for. A large steak knife.
Lunging forward, I tried my best to grab it and Niall rushed into the kitchen, staring at me as I grasped onto the large knife. Suicidal thoughts floated around in my head swiftly as I thought of different ways to plan my own death. Flipping the knife around to point at me, Niall's eyes enlarged. "SKYLER, NO!"
I tried to plunge it into my stomach, but he leaped forward and caught my trembling arms as I stared at him through wild eyes, struggling to get free so I could end my life, an attempt I had tried twice today because of One Direction. "Skyler, calm down, now!" he said calmly.
Slowly, my breathing slowed into a normal rate again as I fell to the ground, trembling and dropping the knife. My eyes were wide at what I had been about to do as the boys finally appeared. I curled up into a fetal position on the ground, still panting slightly and soon I passed out from all the stress of everything. Unconsciousness was the best place to be, peace, quiet and everything I always wished for.