Blue (Niam AU) (#Wattys2016)

Chapter 18

~Liam~

I slowly crawled to Niall's body, tears blurring my vision. I let the drops escape my eyes and roll down my face. His skin was pale, even paler than a vampire. I could almost see his veins and arteries. I studied his arms. He had many scabs and faded lines on both arms. He had been cutting himself for a long time. It hurt to know that. One large, bloody slit was on each of his forearms, the red liquid dripping onto his blue shirt and the white tile under him. Red and blue colored pills scattered the floor, an empty yellow bottle in his hand. I placed a hand over my mouth and choked a sob, more tears spilling. I played my fingers to his neck. There was a faint pulse beating like a dying heart. He was alive, but slowly fading.

I quickly got out my phone and called 999, placing the box to my ear and waiting for an answer. I let out a breath I was holding when the call went through.

"This is 999, what is your emergency?"

"Hello," I said through my sobs, "m-my friend...he's almost dead. I heed someone to get him to the hospital fast."

"Okay, sir, what is your friend's name?"

"N-Niall Horan."

"And your name, sir?"

"Liam Payne."

"Okay Liam, just give us the address of your location and we will be there shortly."

I told the man the address of Niall's flat. He then thanked me and hung up. I put my phone in my pocket and looked at Niall again. He looked so...gone. He couldn't have been dead. He wasn't dead. He still had a pulse. I turned my head to the sink and saw a piece of folded paper near the faucet. I picked it up and unfolded it. It was Niall's suicide note.

Dear the person who finds me,

As you can see, I am long dead by now. I took a whole bottle of Tylenol and cut into my arms for one last time. I hope you understand that this was my time to leave. I've been getting bullied since I was 9. I had my best friend with me, but he moved away when we were 11. He was my only friend. After he left, I had no one. Josh started bullying me worse than he had before. As we got older, it got even more worse. He would beat me until I couldn't move, calling "fag" "gay" "bitch" "loser" and all the things you could really think of. The thing was...well. I am gay. Or was, now. I've known since I was 12, after 3 years of research and having a crush on my friend (the same one from before). Also, my home life was bad. My dad got fired from his job one day, and he wasn't the same. He started drinking and doing drugs. It got worse as the months went on. He would hit me under the influence of alcohol. He even pinned me up against the kitchen counter one night holding a knife to my throat. I couldn't died that night, but my mum walked in on it. Thank god for that, I guess. He left us when I was around 15 years old, so I didn't have to deal with him again. A few months later, mum lost her job. She couldn't pay for me to go to university. So, I gathered as much money I could get and moved to London. By then, mum found another job. It was enough to support her, but not two people. That was the main reason I moved here. I got a job at a music store and made two really good friends; Harry and Louis. They know I was gay, considering the fact that they were together. We sang sometimes. Louis would play the piano and I'd play the guitar. Harry wrote songs for us to sing. It was my outlet from the world, and it made me happy. Then, in comes in my conscience. It told me when to harm myself and why. It told me how awful I was and that I needed to die. It was right, though. The world will be such a better place without me. These past few weeks have been overwhelming. I saw my friend that moved away again for the first time in 8 years. My dad came back...he took me to his home just outside of London and beat me, as well as his new wife. That's why I have bruises on my face. They gave me them. The final straw was pulled just tonight, when I sang 5 Seconds of Summer's "Broken Home." I cried and ran out of that karaoke club in an instant. My friend followed me, grabbing my hands and asking me why I was so emotional. I couldn't tell him. I apologized...then kissed him. I freaking kissed him! I ran straight home, and now I am here. Writing this. My final words.

Thank you Anne for taking me in to your music shop family.

I'll miss you Harry and Louis. Look after each other and never leave each other. Get married soon!

Goodbye mum. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you during tough times.

And finally, I say goodbye to Liam. Liam, I will never forget you. Whether I am in heaven or hell, you will never leave my heart. I love you Liam. Now you know that.

Goodbye everyone. Have a lovely life, unlike me.

Love,

Niall James Horan

I shakily folded the note back up, putting it in my pocket. His whole life story was on that measly piece of paper, and it was dreadful. Because of me, his life was hell. I wasn't there to help him through his bullying or his dad's abuse or any of that. He had to go through all that stuff alone, and Niall didn't deserve that. I leaned against the wall and slid down, crying with my head down as I waited for the paramedics to come.

About 10 minutes later, men with first aid kits and a gurney came in and went to Niall. They began to bandage up his arm and put him on the black and yellow bed with wheels. I stood up and walked out with them, not saying a word to anyone.

Everyone who lived on that floor was standing outside their door, watching the paramedics take Niall into the elevator. I sniffled as the doors closed. Niall was on his way to the hospital to be saved.

My phone beeped a few second later. I looked to see that it was a Remind 101 message from my professor.

All students should be back at the hotel by 11. Please make it back so you get enough sleep for the class trip tomorrow. It's a speech by a famous journalist, so get plenty of rest!

I sighed and stuffed my phone back into my pocket. I looked back at Niall's flat. I closed his front door, replaced the key under the mat, and left the building to go to my own hotel.

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