~9~

Warning - this chapter contains the following:

-Abuse

-Not alive thoughts

-Rape

If you are uncomfortable with any of the following, DO NOT READ ON. Don't read the part in squiggles. There will be a section afterwards giving a general summary of what happens.

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Zak's POV

Harry dragged me along the cold streets. I don't know how long we've been walking for, maybe a couple of hours, but I could tell it was a while. The sky was turning darker by the second, and I didn't like how there wasn't that many people on the streets. I didn't like any of this at all, but I went along with it. Those threats Harry told me made me wants to stay in a corner for the rest of the week. But of course I had to come out for Darryl's sake. He would've been worried sick. But this led me to where I am now, so I guess bad things were going to happen either way.

Harry looked around before leading me into a dark alleyway. I became more and more anxious the further we went, but I couldn't do anything to stop him. He told me if I did anything he didn't want me to, he could hurt me, or worse. I was scared, so I just agreed. That was the worst mistake I could've possibly made. It was like signing my own death grave. I basically set myself up for death. Not that I would mind anyways.

We kept walking for a couple more seconds until he abruptly stopped. He turned around with a huge grin on his face. I slowly backed away, but he grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me forward. I started to cry before he slapped me in my face. I tried my hardest not to tear up, but it's difficult to when a guy starts picking you up by your shirt, yelling at you and slapping you in the face. I had my reasons but I guess he didn't seem to like that.

He looked agitated, and even that was an understatement. He started yelling at me about how I was trying to take Darryl away from him. I guess he liked Darryl, but I could only imagine the horrible things he would put him through. I mumbled under my breath, which I quickly regretted afterwards. He stopped talking and looked at me. I looked down but he forcibly made me face him. His smile grew wider as I saw a spark in his eyes. I looked at him in horror until I was shoved into a wall.

"This is going to be fun," he said, whispering into my ear. "I could do all things I want to do to him, but to you." I started tearing up again, especially when I felt hands crawl all around me. I tried to wiggle away, shouting for help, but all that ended up happening was a hand on my mouth and another hand exploring. I wasn't enjoying any of this, hell I didn't even want to be here. But he pinned me to the wall so tight, that I could barely breathe. It was as if he was trying to make me pass out. I ended up passing out eventually, feeling sensations all around my waist and legs.

Despite passing out, I could feel everything that was going on. I was slipping in and out of consciousness to Harry on top of me. He had my arms pinned to the ground, and I couldn't move even if I tried. He lowered his face to me and started to whisper in my ear. All his insults got to me. I didn't feel anything though. I could feel physically, I was still aware. Everything else inside of me was gone. I didn't feel anything, and I didn't care anymore. Harry just kept doing what he was doing, and I just lied there not caring anymore. I didn't care what happened to me anymore. I lost all hope. I just believed this is where I was going to die and kept it at that.

A few minutes passed and Harry finally felt content. I still laid there on the floor, emotionless. Harry didn't like how I wasn't moving, so he kicked me. I felt the pain, but I didn't care. I took it. He continued to hit and kick me, until he didn't care either. He just walked away without looking back, and a couple of seconds later, he was gone. I struggled to get up, but when I did, I sat with my back on the concrete wall. I hated myself. I hated myself for not standing up for what was right. I hated myself for being a coward. I hated myself for allowing this to happen. I didn't want to live anymore. I made Darryl suffer by worrying about me. I didn't like how his entire life just revolves around me and my issues. I hated it. He shouldn't have to deal with that. I hate it.

I stood up and walked over to the nearby dumpster. There were some pieces of glass laying on the floor, probably from a broken vase that fell from up above. I grabbed one of the shards and stared at it. Darryl would've been mad at me for this. Darryl would've hugged me and told me it would be alright. Darryl would've stayed with me and sang me to sleep. But Darryl's not here. Darryl won't care. Darryl never cared. He never did and never will. I was never loved. All of my friends ditched me for a reason. All because of me. I'm just a waste of space. I raise the glass shard up to my wrist and-

"ZAK!"

I quickly look up with tears in my eyes. Darryl runs down the alleyway with tears in his as well. I drop the shard and hold my hands up to my face. Darryl slowly comes to a halt and looks at me up and down. He starts walking towards me whilst sobbing immensely. I open my arms with a small smile forming. He runs up to me and hugs me as tight as he could. I attempt to hug him back, only for my legs to collapse and for my vision to become blurry. Darryl calls my name and starts to cry again, and I faintly whisper in his ear, before slipping out of consciousness.

"I love you."

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Summary

Harry decided to mess with Zak's mental state because Zak liked Darryl. He didn't approve of this, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. He tries to get to get him to be discouraged from talking to Darryl by messing with him. At the end of it all, Zak almost harms himself, but Darryl finds him and takes him away to a hotel nearby.

An hour later

"Thank you, ma'am, I really appreciate the help." Darryl smiles at a lady who helps him carry me to a nearby hotel. He considered taking me to the hospital, but he figured my mental state was not exactly the best. He opted to stay with me the whole time instead, making sure to keep an eye on me the whole time. The lady smiled back as all three of us entered the hotel. The man at the front desk rushed up to us, before asking what had happened to me. Darryl only explained a little bit, not bothering to mention the alleyway at all. The man gave us the keys to one of the unoccupied rooms and told us we could stay until I was feeling better. Darryl thanked the two before carrying me towards the elevator and into the hotel room.

Darryl lightly placed me onto the bed and I winced at the pain in my hip. Darryl asked me what had happened, but I kept quiet. He sighed and sat next to me, patting my head. I sat up, even though it hurt, and laid my head on Darryl's shoulder. He lifted my legs up so that they were over his lap, and held me as if he was cradling a little baby. I didn't mind it though. I sat there with my head in his chest staring into space. I looked up at Darryl who looked down at me. I slowly lifted my legs off of him and sat on his lap. He blushed but continued to stare at me. Our foreheads touched as I held his face in my hands. He made me happy to be alive. He actually did care about me. I don't know what had happened back there in the alley, but I was glad to be alive and with Darryl. It felt nice. It felt right.

Darryl lifted my face up and pressed his lips on mine. I sank into the kiss as we sat there for a couple of seconds. When we parted, he pulled me close to his chest and hugged me, his hand lying softly on the back of my head. I smiled, and thought about everything. We had called the police, who were now currently searching for Harry, and I had slowly started my recovery. Of course I'm still on edge, but because I have Darryl, I feel better most of the time. I don't know how, but he just makes me want to be happy. And for the first time in a while, I want to be happy.

A couple of days pass and I'm doing much better. Darryl has been taking me places, and I've become more and more confident over the days. I can now comfortably enter a restaurant or a movie theater without having an anxiety attack, which seems to be a great improvement. I've made progress, as Darryl likes to say. He always tells me that sometimes the worst has to happen for the best to happen, and I guess you could say that. That horrible experience made me realize that there were people who loved me. So, in a way, I guess the bad made me realize the good. And I'm happy for that. Not happy for what had happened to me, I still feel terrible for not doing something or for being vulnerable, but happy that it made me stronger.

I'm happy.