Never Tear Us Apart

Zayn watched as Helena’s car sped out of his driveway as he clutched his bleeding hand, he had never meant to hit the car as hard as he had. Zayn couldn’t control his anger, when he was mad it was as if his mind had no control over his actions. The raven haired male cursed at the car that sped off, out of the corner of his eyes he saw people emerging from their homes to find out what was happening.

“What?” he spat at the elderly man that was gawking at him and his nakedness. The man cleared his throat awkwardly and shuffled back inside mumbling to his wife to stay inside. He turned his head and glared at the woman on the other side, she wasn’t looking at him she seemed to be more concerned about his blood coated hand.

“Stay inside the house Jamie watch your sister,” the woman stated sternly to the child standing in the doorway before stepping off her porch and walking around into Zayns’ extravagant front yard, the woman would have been early thirties, light brown hair and dark eyes that radiated warmth.

Zayn scoffed and turned about to walk back inside his house before he was stopped by her voice, “I think it would be best if you got that cleaned up.” Zayn noticed that there were still a few neighbors watching him waiting to see what he would do.

“I can do it myself,” he grumbled.

“I don’t think so mate,” the woman spoke, “That looks like it needs a proper clean up and stitches, think you can manage that yourself?”

“I said I can do it myself,” he stated hotly over his shoulder before walking toward his house. The woman sighed shaking her head before speaking again.”

“If you need help just sing out,” Zayn scoffed as he walked around the back of his house ignoring the kindly woman. Pulling his back door open he headed straight for his bathroom, turning the faucet on he let the water run for a few seconds before sticking his injured hand underneath the running water gritting his teeth at the stinging sensation that prickled his skin. The raven haired male washed it as good as he could trying to pick out the small fragments of glass that were lodged into the wound, but his hands were shaking so badly that it was a struggle. Growling he gave up and pulled his hand out and wrapping it in the nearest thing, a hand towel. He walked out into the kitchen where he had his first aid kit. Grabbing a large bandage be began to wind it around his hand and wrist. Once finished he collapsed back on his bed.

See what drinking does. the words echoed in his mind. Everything that Helena had told him was starting to hit him and he began to get angrier, angry at her, angry at Perrie, and most of all angry at himself, angry at the fact that alcohol had ruined everything good in his life. Before he was swallowed into a world of booze, drugs and mayhem he had it all. A good career, a fiancé, a life, now all he had were memories. Dusty pictures scattered around his home, fragments of memories from the happier time in his life.

Sitting up he grabbed a pair of jeans stepping into them before grabbing his mobile phone, looking at the screen he punched Helena’s number into his phone even though his hands shook terribly. Hitting the call number he waited for her to answer but all he got was her message bank, quickly he hit redial but received the same treatment. This wasn’t like her normally she answered every one of his calls. Maybe he really had scared her. A feeling of sadness stirred in the pit of his stomach and he hit redial praying that she would answer, he needed to hear her voice, needed to hear if she was okay. When he got her message bank for the third time he left a message.

“Lena, it’s me, please pick up I need to talk to you, I am so sorry for how everything turned out, sorry for the way I have been acting, please don’t shut me out, you’re the only person I have left,” tears welled in his eyes as he hit the end button hoping that she would hear the message and call him back straight away.