four boys, all with different problems, but brought to the same place. over the course of a few days, this young therapist hears their life changing emotional stories about situations that are relatable for her and probably you as well.

december 3rd | 2015

It's been silent for fifteen minutes, the therapist staring at me, and me staring back at her. I feel the lump in my throat growing with every second I spend in silence and eventually tears are pricking at the corners of my eyes.

"Liam right?" the therapist greets me, "Liam Payne."

"Yeah," I sigh, "Liam Liam Liam...that's my name."

"You seem to be anxious?"

"Anxiety is my middle name ma'am."

"Obviously your parents are more intelligent than that."

I smile, running a hand through my grown out hair before rubbing my hands together. This is quite possibly the awkwardest situation I've ever been in during my many years of life.

"Why are you here Liam?"

"Because...I don't know Miss."

"You don't have to address me by a name," the therapist assures me, "I don't want you to familiarize me with that; maybe with what I say, rather than what I go by."

"Should I be concerned?"

"Not at all Liam."

"...Okay."

"There's so many words you could use other than okay."

"I'm not much for words," I confess and she nods considerately,

"So Liam, tell me about you. I feel like you have a grand past just waiting to be released."

"Erm..."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," I mumble, "just a little shaky."

"What are you afraid of?"

"People." The word leaves my mouth and I want to vomit as soon as it does, "People petrify me."

"Why?"

"They pressure you, make you do things against your will just to make them happy."

"Liam, I'm going to ask you again; are you okay."

I sigh shakily, closing my eyes and answering again,

"Not really..."

"Have you lived here your entire life?"

I hesitate, wondering whether I should tell her anything about me. What if she turns on me?

"Mr. Payne, are you alright? You're pale..."

"I-It's just Liam," I tell her, "and I'm okay."

"Wanna talk about what's on your mind?"

"I don't even know where to begin..." I mumble, "there's so much, and at this point there's nothing left in my soul that's keeping my heart beating..."

"Then start where you think the change started," she explains, "that's the best way to go."

"Okay," I take a deep breath, "so I suppose it started when I was seven, moving to the Infinity Estates."

"Infinity Estates?!" the therapist asks in surprise, "what do your parents do?"

"They..." I realize I don't know what my mother and father do and shrug, "I dunno. I barely see them anymore anyway. That's why they don't know."

"Don't know what?"

"I...nothing." I sigh, "So I guess it started when I was moving there. I remember it like it was yesterday. But, before I even tell you this story in entirety, can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course," she says sympathetically, but Liam's eyes are filling up to the brim with tears,

"Please don't call the police."

february 22nd | 2003

I feel myself wake up when the car runs over a speed bump, indicating we've arrived at the new house. Mum told me we were moving because 'daddy wants a bigger house', which at the time didn't make sense to me. All I knew was that I was leaving everything for something new.

"Are you excited Liam?" My mum calls from the front of the car and I nod my small head excitedly. I had no idea what was to come out of the new home and I was personally intrigued to what was to come.

Soon the car is stopping and I'm running for the hills, looking around the new house with an over exaggerated happiness. My mum said it was a beautiful house on a lakefront, and that I would be going to a new school where they gave you clothes for school. How great is that? She said it was called 'private school', but I'm not sure why it's private if I'm going with other people.

After about an hour of running around the house and squealing at all the new things and bigger rooms, my mum told me to put my things in my new room and go talk to one of the neighbors' kids. So, being the obedient child I am, I oblige and exit the house after unpacking.

The neighborhood is weird, being that it's gated and secluded. It felt like the world was completely cut off from me and that I wouldn't be able to explore what was outside of the gates.

I wasn't ready to be closed in.

The second I stepped onto the sidewalk, things got weird. I saw huge houses all next to each other, as if there wasn't meant to be any space between them. So close, always in your business.

A door opens to my right as I'm walking, and I look over to see a boy with blonde hair jumping down the steps to his house. My eyes stay trained on him as he leaves the gates to his house.

"Hi!"

He startles me when he greets me, his eyes wide and his smile even wider.

"Hi..."

"Do you want to go to the park with me?"

I hesitate, looking to see if anyone else was around. Seeing my observations fail me, I nod, following the boy from the white house down the street.

And then we're running, sprinting as fast as we can to the nearest park. It's weird, being that I've never really been out on my own without my parents' consent. But they did tell me to explore, didn't they?

Once we arrive at the park, he gives me a mischievous smirk,

"Ever take candy from a baby?"

"Candy from a baby?" I ask in awe, "but--"

"Yeah yeah, that's mean, whatever. We're gonna do it, and you're gonna like it."

"No..." I pout, "that's no fun."

"Maybe it's no fun because you don't know how to have fun yet?"

I tap my chin, thinking that maybe he has a good point.

"Okay, I'll see if it's fun."

december 3rd | 2015

"Was it fun?"

"No, but being so gullible and vulnerable when it came to peer pressure, I did it anyway."

"And what did that pan out to?"

"First best friend," I sigh, "and the worst."

"What his name?"

"Eric; his parents had been living in my complex for their entire lives; grew up in wealth, and stayed in it."

"Sounds great."

"It didn't pay him very well in the long run," I roll my eyes, "all brawn; no brain."

"Is that so?"

"Never been more honest about anything, ever." I tell her truthfully, "he's honestly horrid in all ways."

"Then why is he your best friend?"

This is a question I've thought of for days, weeks, months, years, but never acted upon it. It occurs to me that the only reason I stayed acquainted with Eric is purely for my own protection.

"School became a battle field, and I needed an army." I answer simply.

september 13th | 2010

"Liam! Liam come sit over here!"

I turn to where Eric is calling me, unable to spot him in the crowd on high school kids I'd never seen before. The noise is clogging and my head is pounding as I sit next to him.

"Hi Eric..."

"Hey bro, check this out," he says, pulling out a bag from his backpack. I peek over from above the table and see that the contents of the bag were not the gummy bears I assumed they were.

"Weed?!" I whisper shout, "that's--"

"Liam quiet down!" he whispers back, "God, I'm not trying to get caught..."

"You're being a jerk Eric..." I mutter, "you bring in an illegal substance and then yell at me for--"

"Hey!" he suddenly shouts to our lunch table, completely ignoring me, "who says Liam is a stiff?!"

Everyone at my table raises their hands, laughing as I sink in my seat, embarrassed. I'm not a stiff...I just don't want to get in trouble.

"Stop it Eric--"

"Nah Liam, you're a fucking goodie two shoes, a stiff! You can't have a second of fun without ruining it!"

"Eric stop--"

"Why? It's not like you do anything fun anyway...you just sit around in your house and do homework!"

And that's when I crack; because what kind of an asshole friend is he to call me a stiff? I'm anything but a stiff. I can have fun, do whatever I want to, whenever I want to. It's not like my parents care anyway; I don't remember the last time they didn't encourage me to go out and meet some new people at a party or have a girlfriend. (Truth be told, I don't even want a girlfriend. I want someone that will love me, not someone with the appropriate genitals). I'll prove it to Eric if it's the last thing I do.

"I can have fun Eric," I tell him, "I--"

"Then come to my party tonight," he says, "my parents aren't home every weekend, and every time I have a party you refuse to come, even though you live right across the street."

"Fine," I argue, "then I will."

"Good. Don't wear your uniform--"

"I'm not an imbecile Eric, stop it." I mutter, picking up my lunch and walking away.

"Don't come just to ruin it Liam!"

And it's strange that as I walk away, I still consider him as a best friend. I dump my food in the trash before exiting through the double doors in seek of someone that wasn't my group of friends. Are they even friends? All the care about is parties and drugs and above all things; sex.

It's disgusting, that as 14-year old freshmen, these thoughts are poisoning their minds. Saddening that as young as I am, I'm already being introduced to these things.

And even sadder that they seem to be affecting me.

I run a hand through my hair, biting my lip as I take out my phone, sitting in front of my locker and taking out my phone.

Well screw them. They'll see that they can enjoy themselves without acting like they're older than they are.

•

"I'm so proud of you Liam," my mum squeezes me for the fifteenth time and I cringe, trying to pull away. This is the first time they've been home in ages and suddenly I want them gone more than I ever have before.

"It's just a party mum," I mutter, shrugging her off of me, "and it's right across the street! I'm not going to Vegas!"

"We're just proud Liam," my dad says.

"Of what?" I ask them, "I'm literally just going out. Wouldn't you be proud of something worthwhile?"

"But Liam--" my mother sighs, "you don't really get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"Liam," my father wraps his arm around me, "this family has a reputation as social people. You have no idea how many times we've been criticized for having a hermit as a son."

My heartstrings break a little at my father's words, not expecting to be called a hermit.

"That's not it--it's just that...well--"

"No matter," my mother sighs, "come on, you've got places to be."

They finally let me go, allowing me to finally leave for my first night at an actual party. Not me playing video games with Josh or anything of that sort. Just fooling around, drinking with my army and kissing girls.

What a night.

I shut the door behind me, walking up to the gate and tapping in the long infinite code to open it. Funny; my parents are such open people, but put their house under lockdown 24 hours a day.

I walk across the street to Eric's house, hearing the bass thumping and filtrating to my already pounding heart.

Eric is popular in school; like, really popular. Popular to a point where I wonder if he'll get into college for just being popular. Popular to such an extent, that I realized that my only way to survive high school is to keep him around, and all his friends. They were my protection from what could have really happened to me; "social suicide" they call it. Bullying, seclusion (as if I don't already seclude myself) and emptiness. I don't want that; and I don't need it.

So I enter Eric's house, rolling up the sleeves of my flannel as I'm bombarded with the smells and sounds of the new teenage scene.

"Liam!" I hear Eric's voice from a mile away, and I already know he's either high or drunk. Either way, I know he's fucked over someway, somehow.

"Hey," I give him an awkward smile and he wraps a tight arm around me.

"So tell me," he asks, "anyone you know?"

"No..."

"Good! Go mingle!"

•

"So Liam, how many girls have you been with?"

"Erm..." I look at the girl currently talking to me and adjust my glasses, "none."

"Hard to get, hm?"

"Well uh, I dunno--girls don't talk to me."

And then she's gone, moving on to the next one.

"Oh go mingle Liam," I mock Eric, "People like you, promise!"

I roll my eyes, walking outside in hopes of getting some fresh air. Though, the only thing I do see, is Eric and a few of his friends smoking weed out of a bong.

"Wha--"

"Liam!" he grins, "Take a seat!"

"What I--"

It's too late. I'm already on the edge of their circle, witnessing them (freshman) light up their pipe and inhale the drugs through their mouths.

"Eric this is so wrong..." I whisper, trying to make a clean getaway, but then he speaks the words that change my life forever.

"So what are you gonna do now, rat us out?" He exclaims, lighting his stick, "What else do you have to kill before I have to dump you for good?"

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath as I look at the stick in his hands that hasn't been touched by his lips.

"Come on Liam; stop being a fucking killjoy and just smoke some weed with us."

So I take the stick and lighter from his hands, sitting down as I set the weed ablaze. The smell is sickening, absolutely disgusting, but I hold in my nausea and inhale the smoke, knowing that this is the only way to stay safe; to fit in.

"Yes Liam!" Eric cheers, "Now we're talking."

december 3rd | 2015

"You know that's illegal, right?"

"Trust me, wait 'till the story gets more exciting. Then maybe it won't be just the weed you're concerned about."

"How long did this go on Liam?"

"I kept doing it freshman year," I explain, "and that's when I didn't do it a lot. It wasn't bad either. Only once in awhile when I had to put on a show."

"What do you mean?"

"Be someone I'm not," I explain, "smoking weed isn't something I do. So I only did it when I went out with Eric."

"Why bother?"

"I needed that protection," I stress, "the only reason why I wasn't being bullied for staying inside is because I hang out with him."

"But why? You can probably do so much better than him." She says and I shake my head.

"My parents; remember that reputation? Oh imagine what would happen if one of the elite's son was considered high school scum!"

I glare at her and she crosses her arms as she leans back, nodding.

"If my rep wasn't up, my parents would come down; on me."

"Verbal abuse," I confess, "Put me down just like the kids at school would when I wasn't out smoking weed or partying with my quote, unquote 'friends'."

"Liam, I doubt your parents would act to that extent--"

"Oh?!" I exclaim, "you don't, do you?!"

I'm mad; in fact I'm furious. For the past four years of my life, my parents have been seen as the good guys. Whenever I don't live to their expectations they take it out on me. It's as if they never left their high school phase, all that bullshit about 'reputation' and 'rank' never dissolved from their heads. Tears spill over as the painful three years re-enter my train of thought, nulling over my sense of stability as I start rolling my sleeves up.

"Liam what are you--oh my gosh..."

"These cuts didn't come out of nowhere!" I shout, waving my hands in front of her, "They came from somewhere!"

"Liam...Liam please sit down. I'm here to listen, to support--"

"Then if that's true, don't tell me that my parents are incapable of putting me down into the dirt."

"I...okay. I'm sorry. Is it too late for that?"

"A little." I mumble, rolling my sleeves up.

"When did you start that?" She asks, not knowing what to do other than point.

"Three years ago," I mumble, "the first time my parents did it. They heard that I had gotten lunch dumped on me or something through the grapevine. You'd think they'd ask if I was okay but they didn't."

"What did they say?"

"Just told me that I shouldn't have been in the situation in the first place; that I should have been the one dumping the lunch."

"That's bullying."

"I know."

"Then why didn't you tell them that?"

"Survival of the fittest; Social Darwinism, I don't know," I grumble, "they're on top, so they think that the bottom matters."

"How many times have you tried to kill yourself Liam?"

"Seven."

I answer as if I'm on automatic.

"Who took you here?"

"I took myself."

I look up wearily at her, begging for a listen; a decent listen.

"Why did you bring yourself here."

"Because I don't know how to feel anymore," I whisper, "I have become an emotionless vessel. The people in my life come, take what they need, and leave whatever is left for someone else to take."

"Like what Liam?"

"My parents use my education and "popularity" for their own gain, Eric uses me to pick up girls now, and--"

"Pick up girls?"

"Shows 'em that he's cooler than me or whatever," I mumble, running my hands over my face.

"When you tried to kill yourself, what did your parents say?"

My eyes twitch from fury at the mention of my first suicide attempt.

october 16th | 2012

"Liam...?"

I hear a voice somewhere in the distance and try to center my thoughts and focus on it. The light becomes a blur, and the blur becomes a person.

That person then becomes a doctor, and that's when I realize;

I didn't die.

"Hey Liam," the doctor smiles down at me, "your parents found you in your bathtub trying to drown yourself, are you okay?"

"I wanted to die," I say weakly, "why couldn't you let me go?"

"Liam," she begins, "we can't just--"

"No!" I pull at my restraints, "I wanted to die! WHY COULDN'T YOU LET ME?!"

"Guards he's over the top," she whispers, and soon there's people bounding through the doors with some angry looking needles,

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO LET ME GO LET ME GO LET ME--"

It goes dark all over again.

•

"Liam, are you awake?"

I open my eyes, but don't answer. The drugs have made me extremely lethargic and I don't want to talk.

"I see your eyes, so I'm going to assume that means you're awake."

I nod back off to the side, looking at where the numerous needles stick out from my arm. It must have taken a lot to put me under.

Dad always said I was a fighter. Only if I could fight them.

I look over to the large window where my parents are yelling at a group of doctors.

"What are..." I cough, "what are they talking about?"

"Um..." she sighs, kneeling over to look directly at me, "your parents have enough money to um..."

"To what?"

"Pay off your hospital bill and cover up the entire story."

My heart falls to the bottom of my chest as I try to break from my restraints once again.

"Liam I don't want to--"

"Why are you covering it up?! Why are you letting them cover it up they're the reason why I'm here!"

She looks at me with a sympathetic smile,

"It's a cruel world Liam; your parents are trying their best to keep you out of it, unknowingly dragging you right in."

And then they're unstrapping me, checking my vitals, sending me off with a smiley face sticker and a lollipop.

No one tried to get me help.

No one cares if I try to commit again.

"So why don't I just do it?"

"What was that Liam?"

My mother looks up from the road and into one of the mirrors, locking eyes with me. I search for another object to stare at, not wanting to look into her eyes. She knows what she did, and yet she isn't fessing up. Her and dad; they're both sick twisted fuckers who don't care about me.

They don't care about me.

My parents don't care about me.

Of all people, they should be the ones to care first, shouldn't they?

"We love you Liam," my mother says with a warm smile. I glance out the window with an opposing frost in my attitude, one sentence running through my mind.

You don't love me; you love your illusions.

•

"Truth or dare?"

I take a swig from my can of beer and mumble a quick 'dare' before Eric smirks at me, and then Daisy.

Daisy Pomerlyn.

Daisy was a goddess if I'd ever seen one.

She had beautiful brown hair, bright green eyes, a smile that could brighten the world enough to end wars and feed children; she was just enchanting.

She had everything; including a boyfriend.

I just loved to be in her presence, because in this madness she's the mediator; she's the spark of innocence that still remains.

"I dare you to kiss Daisy."

"No."

We both say it at the same time and part of me is relieved,

"I have a boyfriend, idiot," she says, getting up to walk away. She almost makes her getaway, but Eric grabs her instead.

"Aw c'mon Daisy..." he says, "come sit in my lap. Maybe it'll help."

"No!" she tugs on him but he pulls her down harshly.

"That wasn't a question." He mutters and I take action,

"Hey," I help her up gently, "She said no Eric. That's when you stop?"

"Thanks, didn't know you were my ninth grade health teacher."

He grabs her ass, startling her, and that's the last straw. Using all my force, I shove Eric into the coffee table, effectively making him fall over into his TV.

"The hell Liam?!" He screams, coming right back at me. I prepare myself to fight as soon as he's on his two feet, and then we're brawling it out, throwing more and more hits as time passes.

"Why do you have to ruin everything in your path?!" I shout as I pin him to a wall, "You ruin Eric!"

"Look who's talking!" He screams back, snatching both my sleeves up and making me drop him in awe. The entire party was already looking at us, but the full view of my cuts and scars has their full attention on my skin now.

"And would you look at that," a bloodied up Eric chuckles as he pinches one of them. Blood begins to flow out and he chuckles,

"Fresh. You really are a freak, aren't you Liam?"

"I--"

"No, you're not allowed to talk. Look at your fucking arms, you suicidal freak!"

Before I know it, the laughing starts.

Laughing.

My hair flops in front of my face as tears well in my eyes. I feel unable to move and when I turn to Daisy, she's laughing too.

I guess I was wrong about her as well; everything and everyone here is corrupt.

I was just punching another boy for her; for her protection. And now she's laughing as I bleed from my own intentions.

Suicidal freak?

Wonder what you'll say when I die tonight.

december 3rd | 2015

"I obviously didn't die; and that's how it went for six more times. My parents covered up every suicide attempt; even the cutting. They didn't want to find me help and now I'm stuck like this; dead, emotionless, and unsure of everything."

"Liam," she asks, "why did you tell me not to call the police?"

My face pales as I remember that I haven't even gotten to that part.

"I..."

"Liam you look sick, are you alright?"

"I just...I just--"

I run out of the room, slamming the door open and sprinting to the bathroom. I drop in front of the toilet, vomiting everything from the day out of my stomach. After a few minutes, I lay my head on the seat, tears streaming down my face and my heart pounding erratically.

"Liam?"

"Go...go away I'll be out soon."

"What happened Liam?" She asks through the door, "You can just tell me here, I promise I won't judge you."

"It's not about that!" I sob, swiping at my eyes, "It's about him!"

"What? Who is he Liam?"

I sniffle and cough as she calls out through the door, asking me who he is and why he's so important.

But that's just the thing; he isn't important.

december 31st | 2014

"What's your New Year's resolution Liam?"

I sit with Eric (after a few months we got over the fight; but I never got over what he said. Either way, I needed my army back) as we both watch the party scene playing out in front of us.

"To graduate and leave this hell hole," I mumble.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna stick around. With mum and dad practically leaving me this house to myself while they're still paying the bills? I've got it made."

And for the first time ever, I feel genuinely bad for Eric.

"Wanna go for a drive?"

"I mean, sure I guess," I mutter, thinking about how great fresh air would be right now. Eric grabs a pack of beer on the way out and I take my bong into the car as well.

After a few months, weed had become more of an escape and less of a mistake. I started thinking less, my mind numbing every time I took it.

My nights followed a pattern;

Writing music.

Crying.

Cutting.

Smoking.

Getting high.

Sleep.

Then, maybe school the next day, if I didn't sleep through my classes. My heart wasn't into life anymore. The world I'm surrounded with sucked out all of my love and left it with a hole waiting to be filled.

(This is probably why I took up music; look at all the gloriously depressing things I can write about.)

We all pile into the car, rap music blasting as I take out my lighter, burning the weed and inhaling the fumes. It's been awhile; I miss the feeling.

"Liam!" someone says, "Take the wheel!"

"But I--"

I find myself being shoved up to the driver's seat anyway as Eric pops open a beer.

"Here you go," he hands it to me with a smile.

"I'm not drinking and driving, dipshit." I mumble. I roll all the windows down and pull out of the driveway, heading down the road.

"Come on," he grumbles, "no one's gonna be driving this late at night anyway Liam."

"No," I say sternly, "I'm already a little high and you're literally drunk of your ass, so no."

"Liam..." he grumbles, pushing me in my seat as we hit the highway.

"No--stop!" I shout pushing him away. But he keeps pressing himself onto me, teasing me and distracting me from the road.

"HEY!" I turn to him, "SHUT THE HELL--"

My sentence is interrupted by a huge blow. Glass shatters in front of me and my first instinct is to grab the wheel and swerve away from whatever we were hitting. Shards hit our faces and I hear metal crushing outside of the vehicle as it flips over.

The screams are barely audible when we make final impact on the snowy ground, and the car skids to a halt. My breathing is erratic as I look at the other four boys sitting in the car, one unconscious and the other three looking more scared than ever.

"I--"

I look over to my side and see a man crawling out from the other vehicle though the little opening that's left. Wincing at the pain that comes with it, I try to get up and help him. But the second his eyes meet mine, the car explodes behind him.

I watch in horror as the entire car bursts into flames before the event overcomes me, everything fading to grey.

•

"We can't tell anyone."

"Why not? A guy--"

"Our reputations are toast if people figure out that we killed a guy. Good thing Liam was driving; we'll get in less trouble. He was the one that did it."

I blink, hearing every word they're saying and not believing it.

"Wh..."

I sense them moving away but I get up abruptly (maybe too abruptly) and begin my scolding,

"Where are we?"

"My house." Eric says, "We're not going back to that party."

"Why aren't we in a police station?!" I shout, "Than man died in an explosion! Someone just lost their child, or their husband or their father! What are we doing sitting here when we should be paying for our crimes?!"

"You mean your crimes." Eric snarls, "You were the one driving!"

"The only reason I crashed was because you were being an annoying asshole!"

"Shut the hell up Liam! You were the one driving and if you tell the police I'll make sure it's the last thing you do."

His threat is laced with a sense of truth and when I see a pocket knife being grasped tightly in his hand, I know he's not kidding.

"If you tell anyone Liam," he snarls, "and god I hope you don't, it'll be the last thing you do."

"You can't do that!" I shout, "How the hell are you getting away with this?!"

"The same way your rich ass parents covered up all seven of your suicide attempts!" He laughs loudly, "What kind of world do you think you live in Liam?! You're not Superman! Stop trying to save everyone and think about yourself for a second."

He points at me, knife firmly held in his hand,

"It's gonna disappear Liam. Don't bring it up again. Understood?"

It's not like I have any choice but to nod. And that's when I realize that living with money is nothing compared to living without it. Those without money stand against reality and face it, while those with money run from it.

december 3rd | 2015

"He's wrong," the therapist says, "you need to tell the police Liam you need to tell them!"

"No I can't!" I sob, "I'm gonna get killed and my parents are going to cover it up anyway! They always find a way out--always!"

"Liam you need to do this," she says through the door, "not for the justice that needs to be made but for yourself. But I can't be the one to help you at this point; it has to be you. You have to get yourself out of there Liam! Where your family resides is a poisonous place."

"No it's a poisonous life."

"Liam," she says, "Please come out of the bathroom."

I step out, opening the door slightly as I see her with tears in her eyes,

"You can't let them do this to you anymore."

"I can't do it alone," I sniffle, "they'll--"

"Fuck what they'll do," I'm startled at her cursing and she sighs, rubbing her forehead,

"December 12th. Come back; I'll update you with a time. I promise I won't tell the police but in between this appointment and the next Liam, I really hope you consider what I'm about to say. You think you're empty and lifeless, right?"

I nod and she breathes deeply before continuing,

"The only way your body can be empty is if you're dead. You're not lifeless Liam; because if you were, you wouldn't have driven yourself here to get help."

"I came here because I felt lifeless; ready to die."

"And I'm here to tell you that there's still some of the Liam Payne that isn't this one. Everything you've done; drinking, cutting, getting high every other night, acting on peer pressure? It's because you live in a world that shuts out reality. Liam the first step is getting yourself out of there."

"How do I do that?"

"I promise you; December 12th will change everything. I'm going to help you Liam. We're all going to try and help you."

After her speech, I thank her quietly and take myself out. As I slowly slip into my car, I catch sight of the bong and angrily throw it out of my window. I watch it shatter on the sidewalk as tears stream down my face.

Who am I?

Everything was fine until that party; I had myself figured out, I knew who I was. The Liam I knew wouldn't even be here. He would at home, studying for his midterms instead of sitting in his car, looking at the broken shards of a weed pipe, and wondering how his life was burned to ashes over the past three years.

Liam Payne would not have let something as pitiful as surviving in school, in life, get the best of his moral compass.

But he did, and I guess now I'm paying for the consequences.

I think back to the therapist's exact words, and that's what gets my gears grinding;

We?

Who is we?

next in the series: conclusion
(check my wattpad page for the now published conclusion book)
liam payne will return