Through the Dark

I stand here looking at his door, hesitating to knock I get this sharp pain in my chest. I take a deep breath and knock as loud as I can. Silence. I reach into my pocket looking for the extra key Harry gave me before I stepped out of the car earlier. I knock once more waiting, listening for any sign of movement. And more silence. I jerk the key up and place it in, turning, and the door quickly opens in front of me.

“Yes I’m sure.” Zayn responded with a puzzled look on his face. He hangs up his phone and puts it into his front pocket. “Sarah?” he chocked reaching to me, bringing me into a tight hug.

“Hi.” Is all I manage to say as I stand there letting him hold me.

“Are you really here? I’m not seeing things?” he exclaims.

“I’m here Zayn.” I choke up. He lets me inside his flat. A wave of depression hits me as I see his palace. It’s sprawled with junk and trash in random places. I look at the sofa and it is covered in books and some magazines along with empty beer bottles.

“Sorry for the mess. I didn’t know I would have any company.” He clears his throat and cleans off the table filled with varies water bottles.

“Zayn I’m worried. You should not be living like this.” I pick up a notebook from the chair and look at it, my heart breaking instantly as I read the last written sentence.
I can’t endure it anymore.

A tear escapes my eye when Zayn leaves the room and enters the back room. I follow looking at my surroundings trying to take it all in. Along with the beer bottles I see a few pill containers with the lids missing. I cover my mouth in despair when I see most of the pill contents gone. I quickly go into the room that Zayn entered. He’s standing there rocking to some music he must have put on with a blunt in his left hand.

“Zayn what are you doing? Why are you doing this? Are you trying to hurt yourself?” I slowly walk to him.

“Aye everything is fine princess. Don’t worry about me alright I can handle my shit.” He almost growls at me. Taking another hit he comes to me and takes me into his grasps, rocking me to the slow beat of Miguel (X). I don’t fight him and go along with whatever it is he is doing.

Two minutes later he lets me go and turns to face the wall. He inhales again and begins to paint the black wall with red streaks. I stand there not sure what to do as I watch him move the brush up and down. Several minutes go by and he is busy painting and I leave the room letting him be in his own mind. I look around the house and start cleaning up.

‘How’s it going over there? xH’

‘It’s bad. I think I got here in time. He’s not talking to me.’

‘Just stay with him. He needs you.’
‘I know.’

The apartment is clean and is getting dark as the light fades with the sun. I turn on lights and decide to order some take out. Luckily I find a phonebook and decide on Chinese food. I go check on Zayn for what seems to be the 100th time today. His painting is almost finished and looks amazing. The face of a Buddha.

“I ordered Chinese food. It’ll be here in 15 minutes.” I said quietly, watching him move with ease as he is fixing the Buddha’s lips.

“Okay I should be done then.” He replied in a low calm voice.

I let him be and go to the front area and turn on the tv to fill these quiet rooms. The channel is on some celebrity news program plastered with Zayn’s face. Headlines typed in big bold letters saying ‘Zayn to rehab? And quitting the band!’ I quickly turn it off when I hear Zayn exhale in relief.

“It feels good to be free.” He bragged with a small smile on his face “It feels even better with you here.”

Notes

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