Dark Side

The first week being home, and I was already used to the feeling. The subtle smell and feelings of being back home, in my own bed, being around my family, it felt great. But what I still could not get used to were the four boys and my brother, who made it somewhat of a hell for me.

They were entertaining, I would admit that, but it was set to a certain limit that I'd allow before I began to explode. Everyday the boys would go out and rally around, maybe do a few small shows for their fans, before they'd come home with a bunch of junk food and alcohol for everyone. And it killed me that they would get me something and I'd have to subtly decline, or if Liam really noticed, he'd make me sit down with the boys and eat anyways. Right after I would excuse myself, I would go upstairs and throw it all up. And I never liked doing that, I know it was quickly killing me inside, I was being ripped from the inside out. Some of the days, they'd come home, loud and obnoxious, always asking me to join in their fun, or go out with them to a bar or just outside in general. But I would decline and make up an excuse about paperwork for jobs, or just not feeling good. They'd believe me, but when I would look over at Liam, he knew that it wasn't all true.

Today I felt like doing nothing, I really wasn't that interested in much. So as I got out of bed, I stretched, wincing visibly at the pain in my abdomen, and searched for things to keep me company. At first I took my medications that were lined up in my bathroom on the sink, I truly hated taking them; it was like I was being controlled with pills, and having that linger in the back of my mind every hour of every day bothered me immensely. But I needed them to get better, I didn't want to be in that bad place anymore, I needed to heal, no matter how much it was killing me.

I decided to grab a quick shower to help relieve some of my stress, so hopping in, I let the warmth of the water wash over my problems and heal them for just a while. The loud water splashing into the tub helped murmur the loudness of the boys outside of my room. I was more than sure that they were in Harry's room, which was across the hall from mine. But I drowned them all out, thinking of ways to escape all of this. I kept thinking back to the day where the heat was so blistering hot, how I hadn't eaten anything in a week and a half, how water was my only friend. I'd only had a cup that day, and so when I'd gotten into the classroom that held no air conditioning, I began to feel it. The sweat beads forming across my forehead, the tightness of my abdomen beginning to increase with every breath that I took. That feeling of dizziness meets nausea which came at such a rapid pace. And soon I was standing up, stumbling towards the door, but, I didn't make it in time. The heat, the exhaustion that all of it took, pulled me down, going in and out of unconsciousness for what seemed to be hours.

When I had woken up in the hospital, it was the most embarrassing thing to ever feel, especially for something as stupid as what I'd done. They all look at you with pity and sadness on their faces. There is a hint of judgment in their eyes when they grab eye contact, but the judgment was never the most of my problems, especially from strangers that I would never see again. The worst pain I had ever had to feel was seeing my mum appear next to my bed, her eyes watered, face blotchy from her crying. I didn't think it was that bad until my brother walked in my hospital room, his face swollen from the numerous possible ours of waiting for me to wake up.

”Liam, why are you hear? You should be back home!” My voice was hoarse and raspy, I could barely speak. I listened to my heart monitor quicken its pace a little bit.

Liam rolled his eyes and kissed my forehead. “I thought we were going to lose you. . .” His large hand grasped onto mine, giving me a squeeze as he sniffed.

“What do you mean?” I asked slowly, I was only unconscious for ten minutes or so.

I heard my mom sigh and looked to the other side where she held my hand tightly and looked down at me with hopeful eyes. “You've been in a coma for a week, Lana.”

I shook my head of the thoughts. Wiping the water out of my face. I still couldn't get over what I'd done to them, what I'd done to me. And then hearing about my disorders made me lack in so much, I didn't want to believe what I was told. And so after more check ups, I was asked to attend a rehabilitation center, but I quickly denied, being 18 had its tricks. With that, I was going to be free to go. My mom begged me to come back home to get better, but I denied, I needed to finish school. The both of them cared so much, and I knew that, but I swore to them that I wouldn't be stupid and reckless anymore. And for the first week, I wasn't being who I used to be. Until things got out of hand again, and I began to see myself as some disgusting reckless girl with nothing too important to live for. The girl who messaged up big time and had to live with that guilt for the rest of her life. The pain was so heavy on my shoulders I didn't think I could do much else.

Soon, I began to cut myself again, but I was smart enough to hide it from everyone, even my best friend and room mate, Holly. My hips, my upper legs, no one saw them, ever, and I found that to be the perfect place. It didn't do as great of help for my nerves, but it helped enough whenever I did it. After I began that routine again, my meals became less and less, before I just stopped it all, minus my drinking pattern, which never changed. I saw a dramatic fall in my weight again, and slowly but surely I was losing the weight that I longed for. But still, today, it just wasn't enough.

A sigh escaped my pale pink lips as my head lay against the cold wall in the shower. I let the water fall down my body, surrounding all of my skin, pooling around my feet. I closed my eyes again, picture the razor, seeing the bones through my skin. It was a pretty sight to some eyes, but for others it was terrifying. I felt that it was in between. It was never enough for me. And so, I slid down the shower's wall and began to sob. I let myself go, only for a few minutes, my nails dug into my sides, drawing little slits of blood; it wasn't enough to do damage, but it was to help calm me down. The sobs began to slowly disperse and I made my way to my feet. I couldn't let myself be so wrecked again, at least not now. So I turned off the shower, grabbed my towel and began to get ready for the day.

Once I was dressed and looking somewhat alright, I made my way quickly down the stairs to grab some water. As I made my way into the kitchen, Liam was just then setting down plates while the other boys waited to be served.

“Lana, my dearest friend!” Louis announced loud and clear. I'd never really talked to him, but he seemed pretty friendly – they all did. He motioned for me to sit next to him, which I did. “How did you sleep?”

“How did she sleep?” Zayn looked at Louis weirdly. “Louis, you can't just ask a girl – your friend's sister, might I presume, how she slept. You sound like such a creep.”

Louis scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I'm only being a kind gentleman since I'm staying in her house, you fool!”

Zayn sent a glare at Louis, who was too busy trying to engulf in a conversation with me. I politely smiled and answered that I slept fine. Harry stood across from me, staring intently at what seemed to be me; Louis seemed convinced enough but Harry didn't seem convinced at all. While the other boys began to start off in pointless conversations my eyes wandered on Harry's face, which was quite flawless and beautiful. What? My head turned quickly before he could notice, and then I watched as Liam brought over pancakes and sausage, and as soon as the food was set down, everyone dug in and grabbed what they could. I wasn't feeling at all comfortable with this, so I turned and began to leave.

“Lana, aren't you going to eat?” Niall asked in surprise. He had sausage hanging out of his mouth, while a fork full of pancakes was held in his hand.

My shoulders went limp, “I'm not that hungry, actually, I'll have something later,” My excuse could have worked, if my brother hadn't caught on and knew these things about me.

“Lana, sit down and eat something,” Liam slyly forced. I couldn't say no, but I would try.

“I'm not hungry, Liam,” I forced back. I saw the sadness in his eyes, the suspicion in the other boys' eyes.

Liam forced out a shaky breath, “Lana,” He said as he left the table and walked over to me. He let the boys continue with what ever conversation they had previously, and took me into the other room. “You know what mom said, you need to eat. After everything...” He trailed off, he couldn't continue, and a part of me felt bad, while the other part couldn't care less.

A sigh escaped through my lips, “I know, Liam, and I'm doing good,” Lie. “I'm just not hungry right now, I will eat something later, I promise.” But I couldn't keep that promise, I'd gain weight again and it just wouldn't end well. I looked up at Liam, who's eyes again filled with sadness. I couldn't take that look any longer, so I mumbled a 'sorry' and then drug myself upstairs. He could yell at me later, but right now, I just didn't quite care.

But I found myself, minutes later, lifting my shirt just barely above my chest to inspect my body. I stared at the reflection of me in the mirror, not necessarily liking what I saw. My pants hung above my waist, gladly hiding my scars; I only wanted to look at the small bones that slowly were beginning to appear. I felt sick to my stomach, this wasn't good enough, I wasn't good enough. My stomach began to turn, and I felt myself begin to head towards the ground when loud thumps came charging up the stairs and the opening of my door gave me a little scare. I yanked my shirt down quickly and looked over at the boy standing in my doorway. I gave him a small embarrassed smile as he stood there. He looked confused, and a bit suspicious at what I'd just done.

“I'm sorry, I should have knocked,” He admitted shyly.

I shook my head, “No, no, it's okay. . . Can I help you with something?”

“Uh, yeah,” Harry began, nervously scratching the back of his head. “I just wanted to make sure that you were okay, you looked a bit shaken up downstairs.” My blood began to spiff, shaken up? I looked fine, why did he care anyways?

It took over me for a moment when I snapped, “I'm fine.” I looked up at him the second after I said it, ashamed at myself. “I'm so sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to. . .”

“No,” He shook his head with a small warm smile, “I understand, I shouldn't just barge in on your life, especially when I hardly know you.” My lips went up into a small timid smile as my only response. Soon I found myself casually walking over to my desk, promptly placing the things on my desk in perfect order as a way of distraction; I was confused as to why the boy was really up in my room.

“So, really, what do you need?” I asked a moment later. From my ears I heard him sigh, so I looked up only too find his eyes laying on me intently.

“I just want you to know,” He began, his hands sliding up the door frame, “I know we aren't close, and we've only known each other for a week, but your brother and I are great friends, and though he hasn't said anything – if there even is anything, I want you to know that you can trust me and that I'm here if you ever need to talk.” I didn't exactly know what to say to this or how to respond. Was this some kind of joke that the boys are playing on me? Was it that noticeable on my face and in my actions that something was wrong? I didn't want to believe that Harry could be that lucky one who could see right through me. I needed to talk myself into a better plan of staying low.

“Well,” My voice broke, “Thank you, Harry, but I assure you that I'm fine. I'm just trying to get used to being home again, that's all.” And part of that was true, I was trying to get used to being home, used to still being alive, used to hiding all of this from my family. This was all very hard on me, and if Harry could see right through me, I know that I'd have to try harder to hide my pain.