Shot Me Out of The Sky

I didn’t stop running until I was outside my apartment complex, three miles away from McDonalds. Knowing they saw, it just killed me. They saw my scars. No one has ever seen them. I knew them for 10 minutes and they found out, but they didn’t know the whole story and they weren’t going to.

I walked into the lobby and saw Deuces, the manager of the hotel. His real name was Daemon, but he prefered Deuces, I called him Deuce. “Hey Sammy-spammy, what’s the matter?” I shrugged my shoulders and he walked out from behind the counter to hug me. “Was it a boy?”

“Kind of? No, I just- ugh, it’s nothing Deuce. I’m gonna go up to my room now.” I left Deuce and hiked up the stairs, which was unusual for me. I would sooner wait ten minutes for the elevator before I climbed the stairs.

When I reached my floor I felt my phone vibrate. Deciding to check it, I read a text from Taylor From Taylor: Not exactly sure what's going on, but talk to Niall. He really likes you and he is totally confused why you ran off. I sighed and shoved my phone in my pocket. I couldn’t talk to them again, they saw my secret.

I walked straight to my room and unlocked the door. I kicked off my shoes and headed straight for my kitchen. I hopped onto my newly cleaned counter and pulled out my longest, sharpest knife. Punishment for people seeing my scars, was more scars. My hips were littered on either side with scars. The last time I cut was before I left my moms. She was a crazy drunk and the reason I lost all my friends. The friend that never left and comforted me the most was my blade. I rolled my waist band down and made three horizontal cuts on either side of my hips. Wincing at the familiar pain, watch my blood run from the fresh wounds.

I sat there and just watched my blood pool in the wounds before spinning over. The sick sense of satisfaction should have worried me, but it didn’t. It made me want to show the world what I could do. I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture, sending it to Taylor. it read You saw them, now look at me.

When I woke up, I was on the floor in my kitchen, blood pooled around me. I needed help. My phone was lying next to a pool of blood, near where my head was. Piecing together what happened, I passed out and fell off the counter. I slapped a button, and my phone read the I had 32 texts and seven missed calls. Shit.

I had 16 texts from Taylor, 10 from Niall, and the other six were from the other boys, I’m assuming. All of the calls were from Niall. I gulped and clicked on the first message from Taylor. Lots of crying later, I made it through all of the texts. Replying back only to Taylor, I told her I needed help. Responding immediately, she asked for my address, which I gave. She said she was 15 minutes away and would see me soon.

After cleaning up all the blood, 25 minutes had passed. With still no sign of Taylor, I decided to change my clothes. I was stained red with blood, like I murdered someone. Throwing on shorts and a large shirt, I tossed my bloody clothes in the washer and turned it on, my special stain remover on them. Just as I shut the door to my laundry room, there was a knock on the front door.

I opened my heavy apartment door to see all the guys, and Taylor. Taylor and Niall both had tears running down their faces and I knew it was my fault.