^^^Even though Harry doesn't have tattoos yet in this story, oh well

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It had been a week since Louis came home. Harry thought things would have gotten better, but they didn't. Sure, he was more happy now that he was with Louis, but that didn't stop people at school from being mean to him or from Zayn bullying him.

Harry wasn't in school the day before, which meant he hadn't gotten the paper telling the students that they would be watching a movie the next day for an assembly about bullying and tolerance. And they didn't have a choice either, though if he had known what the movie was about he would have been forced by his mum to stay home.

The movie was about a girl, played by some girl the boy used to see when watching "Hannah Montana" with Gemma when he was small. It was a sad movie. Not one that would make you cry because two characters are in love, but one has to move away or something. No, one that's sad because of how true it is. How often it happens to people. And it makes you think. It makes you, and hopefully everyone, think about why people bully, or why people torture others in the first place.

It was called Cyberbully, and although the girl in it was bullied online and in school with only words and insults, while Harry suffered more physical bullying, he still understood. Mostly because his was worse, and it made him think back to year eight when that used to be him, only being hurt with words, which he could live through.

What really hit everyone in the face during the movie was when the girl tried to commit suicide. When the bullying and the torture had been enough. When she finally decided that life was not living anymore, and that no one would miss her when she was gone. Of course she was wrong and they all missed her even though she lived. It was wrong though, Harry thought. Because hell, as sad as it is people honestly do that all the time in real life and some people don't make it. The actress in the movie just got the good side of getting better.

The curly haired boy loved the movie. He thought it was sad, but he loved being able to connect with the character, and having the privilege to be able to think; I know how you feel. But then he also hated it. He hated that it was a happy ending. Hated that she gave up so easily when she could have lived through it. He had it worse than her, and he continue to struggle every damn day for years and she gave up in a matter of months. It wasn't fair.

Harry had eyes on him throughout the movie. Because people knew that he was bullied as well. Which made him think a thought that anyone would hate him for thinking.

He thought; if she gave up so easily in a short time then why can't I? I've gone through enough for so long. So why should I have to continue being beaten and messed with in the head by not only kids but my own mind as well. He had gone too long pretending to be okay, and pretending that everything was fine. It wasn't as if he wanted to be here. It wasn't as if he wanted to live anymore. He didn't. He just wanted to be at peace with the world, which wasn't where he currently was. He was in hell, suckish hell. And he honestly wanted out.

And that's why.

That's why Harry ran out of the classroom after the movie. And when he ran into Zayn and Sam, that's why he just stood there helplessly and let them beat him to pieces, until he was too battered and bruised to go back to class. So he went home. He went home and did it again. He brought the blade to his skin, and sliced new cuts and reopened some old ones and let himself bleed, painting a new picture, only the brush was a razor and the paper was his skin. He took a swig of the substance kept in the basement refrigerator, making him have to shake his head and blink away that slight fuzziness of the strong taste. Only one though, he didn't want to be drunk when he told everyone what was wrong and what was happening.

For once Harry didn't cover up his cuts. Instead, he took his jeans and sweatshirt off, revealing the cuts on his arms and thighs. The recent red and bleeding ones to the dull ones that would always remain scars. There were too many scars from his life. In his mind, in his memory, on his skin.

The boy was breathing heavy, and he tied as much of his curls as he could up into a bun, as his hair was then long enough. He couldn't stop his body from shaking, which was probably why it took so long to get the laptop open and up to a recognizable website.

A robe was thrown over his shoulder, covering him up as he logged onto his Twitter account.

@Harry_Styles. Livestream in 1

Harry couldn't stop his rigid body, and took another desperate sip of the clear drink, the burning sensation sailing down his throat to distract the lump in his throat.

Do it already. They want to see it.

He sighed, his breath coming out in short puffs of air as he pressed start. Though even knowing he was recording himself live, he couldn't speak until a minute later.

"I don't know what I'm saying. I don't know what I want to say or what I want to do. But I know what I'm going to do is going to be okay," he sighed, his hands on his knees stressfully. He was sweating like crazy, and let out a choked sob. "Everyone hates me," he paused, "and I don't know why! I-I don't know what I've done to anyone. What I said or did to make everyone I know hate me and want me gone. I don't like it. No one would. No one wants to be alone. And no one would want to be hated by every living thing, but we don't get a choice do we? It's all Jesus Christ, who somehow decides our fucking fate," Harry closed his eyes, concealing the tears to come out, "it sucks," he whimpered, "life sucks. Ever since eighth grade when I came out as gay everyone thought that I was an idiot, an embarrassment, a disgrace, a disease. Faggot. I tried ignoring it, but it wasn't easy. Ever since I was eight I've had Schizophrenia. I have voices in my head telling me what to do. They told me bad things. They told me to ignore people and to cheat on tests when I was a kid, and they told me to starve myself in Freshman year. To cut myself and to throw away my medicine. I did all of it. Everything they told me to do was done. Only rarely did I not do what they said. It was hard though. Because they can be so fucking... persuasive," Harry's voice cracked, and he let out a sob. He looked to the viewers.

Two hundred ninety-seven already.

Show them your cuts. Show them your ugly scars and body and then tell them what a failure you are.

He cried, and stood from the edge of the bed, "We watched Cyberbully today. And God dammit, I have it so much worse than her! She gave up too easily, and I think to myself, 'why couldn't you do that?'. I want to! I want to so badly but I was always thought my way out of it. But if it's so God damn easy for that girl to do it, then why can't I?! Why can't I just die too?!" Harry shouted, leaning his weight against the desk before looking back to the camera.

Three hundred and thirty-one viewers.

"And there's so many of you watching!" he cried, "so m-many already, just w-watching, waiting for me to f-finally kill myself, because that's just w-what you w-want isn't it?" he exclaimed, "but none of you know what happens behind closed doors. No one knows what I do. That I constantly use my skin as a cutting b-board! No one c-cares either! No one actually cares about it enough to try to f-fix it because I'm just a worthless f-faggot aren't I?!" he shouted, and unwrapped his robe, so that he was standing in only his boxers. What he thought of as his fat body, and scars were on display for all of them watching. Tears rolled down his cheeks. The number went up higher.

Four hundred and three.

"These are the only things I've accomplished over the past years! The only thing that takes away the pain of being shouted at and beaten until you're practically dead! How I wish Zayn and Sam would've just beaten me to death today. They beat me so hard for another unknown reason today after class. And I wish they just kept going and going until all the air in my lungs ran out and I died! I deserve it, don't I? You all seem to think I deserve it!" the boy sobbed, tears soaking his pale cheeks, "and I just w-want to say that even though n-no one cares, and no one loves me at all, I still love my mum, and my sister, Gemma, and even my step-father, Robin, who I never even talk to. He's the only source of a father I'll ever h-have! And Gemma used to love me! She used to but now she barely even comes home from uni, and when she does I never see her. My mum is always working and she hardly t-talks to me anymore. She never talks to me lately." He took a second, taking a needed breath, "And Liam. My best friend of forever. Liam. He was always there in my old school whenever I was picked on. I love him too, he's like a brother. Same with Niall. He's almost like a brother now. But... but it doesn't matter," he looked up at the laptop.

Four hundred and ninety-nine.

Hurry, Harry, get out of here. End it already.

"Shut up!" he shouted, tugging on his unruly curls. "These voices are telling me to leave! And I want to and I'm getting to it but I'm not done yet!" he screamed, and kept yelling, "Louis Tomlinson is the only one who understands! He's the only one that t-truly had my heart and will hold it forever and I don't care where he is I just want him to know about my undying love for him! Because he's so fucking p-perfect and I'm just n-not and I-I don't deserve his l-love and affect-tion even th-though I long for it so b-bad! And I love you, L-Louis! I l-love you s-so m-much, and I would w-want to g-grow old with you a-and get m-married one day a-and have ch-children because we b-both l-love kids b-but we can't! W-We can't because I-I'm just already d-done and o-over with! M-My life i-is useless a-and I'm n-not even l-living anym-more! I'm j-just existing even th-though I shouldn't b-be! I should be d-dead in hell and m-my heart should be g-given to some life that n-needs one b-but instead I'm here w-wasting aw-way with l-life! I'm alr-ready dead and n-no one c-can do anything about it!" Harry yelled, and was choking on his cries, sobs racking through his body with every shake and tremble.

"B-Because I'm done. A-And I love you, Louis William T-Tomlinson. You'll always be special to m-me. You'll always be in m-my h-heart. But I'm done. I'm tired of living. A-And I'm tired of t-trying. I'm tired of b-being tired, and I'm done. I l-love you," he sobbed, his voice somehow coming out steady, "goodbye."

With that the boy turned off the livestream, ending it with a number in the six hundreds before he stood up from the seat, looking around the hideous room. And he started sobbing so hard that he could barely breathe. Because everything made him mad. Everything made him furious. He was throwing things around, hard, so that they broke. Pushing things off from wherever they laid and letting them shatter or crack. Taking things from the shelves and desktop in his room and smashing them onto the ground carelessly. He wasn't even thinking. He didn't care. He just kept wrecking everything in his room, with rage pumping through his veins. He smashed his computer, and his phone, throwing it hard into the wall where it broke to pieces. His room was completely wrecked and trashed.

And as Harry walked to his bathroom there was little to do. Because he knew that someone was bound to come and try to save him soon. He didn't have a lot of time though. Which was why he chose what felt like the easiest and least painful way.

* * * *

"Niall, drive faster, dammit!" Louis yelled, sobs erupting from him.

"Louis, calm down its only been ten minutes since he ended the video. We'll get there in time!" Niall told him, crying as well as he easily broke the speed limit, zooming around the streets towards the broken boys house.

"Why would he do this?!" Louis exclaimed, "it's all my fault, I should have been with him! I should have taken better care for him and made him feel loved and it's all my fault! He can't do this to me!" he exclaimed, his hands banging on the back of the passenger seat.

"Louis, shut the fuck up!" Niall shouted, swerving a tiny bit, "stop fucking talking like you're going to kill yourself too because I can't do that! You can't do that just because of Harry! He wouldn't want you to die so stop it right now dammit!" the blonde screamed desperately, his voice cracking at the end. Though the other boy couldn't do anything, but jitter in his seat, knowing that there would be another ten minutes before they arrived to his house.

Louis just kept crying, his heart beating too fast and the heartbroken pang in his chest didn't help either as he whipped out his phone, calling Anne. He felt so stupid that he hadn't called her right away, and he prayed that late was better than never.

After a few rings she picked up, "Louis? What's up, hun?"

"Anne!" he gasped, "Harry! I-It's, he, the video! He did a video and he's at home right now but it's not good I-I- he, he's going to-"

"Louis, what is Harry going to do?!" Anne suddenly said, her voice cracking.

"Suicide!" Louis sobbed, "I think he's going to kill himself! Hurry! Please!" the boy whimpered, out of strength to talk clearly anymore. He didn't even hear when Anne hung up, because before he knew it Niall pulled into Harry's driveway. The car hadn't even stopped fully before Louis jumped out, running to the front door.

It was locked.

So was the side door. But he was desperate to save his boyfriend, and he ran hard enough through the screen to break it.

"Harry!" Louis screamed, running upstairs. He wasn't in the hall bathroom. Niall was on the phone with 911, and they were already on their way when the worried boy got to his room, seeing it trashed. His heart stung, and he screamed when Harry's bathroom door was locked. "Harry!" he screamed, "Harry, please baby, open the door please please please! It's Louis! Harry, please!"

Niall was already on the move with a hammer he found from the toolbox in the hall closet. He swung down onto the knob, which broke easily, allowing the two into the bathroom.

"No!" Louis screamed helplessly, seeing bathwater, occupied by a lifeless half-clothed body. He instantly lifted Harry out of the water, placing him on the tiled floor. He shakily pushed down on his chest, hoping he would start breathing, but it wouldn't work. And again when he tried mouth to mouth, there was no response. He was so worked up on trying to give him CPR that he didn't even realize the paramedics that rushed in, and pushed him out of the way until he was in Niall arms, bawling like a baby and yelling for Harry. Hoping for him to live.

The End

Hope you enjoyed

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IM KIDDING OMF I WOULD KILL MYSELF IF I ENDED THERE

15 reads for an update!!!!!