A/N~This was requested by zenthegreatest, I hope you and everyone else likes it. Part 1 is on Book 1.

TW~Self-harm, blood, breakdown and swearing.

Y/N'S POV

It's been about a week since the awful argument with Nick, and since then, I've keep having bad days at school, and my mental health is declining.

My brothers career is peaking to a whole new level, and I don't want to be holding them down as a burden. I know I need help though, but I just can't. It's so difficult to tell anyone.

Since Nick read my diary, I've been sure to keep it away from everyone in the most hidden spot in my room. My diary is now filled with hurtful words from myself and others at school, and how much I want to hurt myself. I need that relief, and I need it soon.

"Y/N! We're going out!" Nick calls out, and I reply back with a simple 'bye' before I hear the door shut. This is my chance to cut away all of my negative emotions. I'm alone in the house, and then I can change into a hoodie and sweatpants to hide the evidence.

I check my window to see the car gone, so I sneak into the bathroom with my collection of razor blades and diary, setting them on the floor as I take a seat on the tiles.

I open my diary and read the worst day - the day I was beaten up in front of everyone in the cafeteria - I read the words that my bullies called me 'fat, ugly, freak, unstable'. The words echo back to me like a curse or a chant, and I take the razor blade, and slice my wrist through the tears in my eyes.

The pain was strong, the air stinging every inch of broken sink that floods with blood, but I enjoy it, feeling some sort of sweet relief, knowing that I'm not numb.

I keep going, every hurtful word equals one more cut on my arm. However, one cut slices really deep, causing me to shout out. "Fuck!" I drop the blade, leaving it to clatter on the floor, as tears stream down my face, just like the blood flowing down my arms, hands and fingers.

"Y/N?" Someone knocks on the door, and I scramble to hide the blades. Who the hell was home? The boys left ten minutes ago!

"Y/N, I'm coming in." They say, and before I can quickly protest, the door opens and Chris comes in.

"Oh shit, Y/N. Hey, it's alright, I'm here, I'm here." Chris whispers, and crouches down next to me, pulling me into his arms, not caring about the blood soaking his vest.

"I-I'm s-sorry, I just c-could-" I hiccup, and cry even more.

"Shh, deep breaths for me Y/N. It's gonna be okay." He says, and I take some shaky breaths, but Chris isn't able to calm me down.

"I'm gonna call Matt Y/N, he's gonna help you calm down." I shake my head, not wanting to look vulnerable in front of all my brothers.

"N-n-no! I'm fine." I say, getting up from the floor, and heading to my room. My breathing is still uneven, I haven't stopped crying and now I have dried blood covering my arms.

"Okay, okay I won't. At least let me clean the cuts for you. And here's your diary." He hands me my diary, and I have a random anger outburst.

"You fucking read it didn't you?" I yell, and Chris comes towards me, but I push him back.

"I swear I didn't read it. Just let me help you." I walk towards Chris and hug him. I don't know what the fuck is happening, but my emotions are messed up.

"Come on, let's clean your arms." He takes me back to the bathroom, and helps me sit on the counter before grabbing the first aid kit.

He gently takes my arm into his hand, and begins cleaning it. It stings, like really stings, but I deserve it. I flinch every now and then, but Chris stops every time, giving me some time to relax, before he cleans another cut.

"Wait, wait, wait, that really hurts!" I cry, ripping my arm from his hand.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. It's almost done." Chris says, slowly taking my arm back into his hold and then carefully cleaning it once again.

"You come to me, Matt or Nick when you feel this way, alright? We're gonna be here for you, and I don't wanna hear any crap, saying that 'you're a burden' and 'our careers are getting good'. You're our sister, you're the most important thing in the world to us." I nod, and then I hear the front door open, and I panic.

"Hey, I'll shut the door, I won't tell them. You can tell them when you're ready." Chris says, before letting go of my arm to shut the bathroom door, and then returning to his position in front of me.

I was grateful that Chris will let me tell Matt and Nick on my own, and above all, I was grateful that they wouldn't mind me talking about my mental health to them.

Chris wraps my arms up, and leaves to go to his room before coming back with his white Fresh Love hoodie. I slip it on, and then jump off of the counter as me and Chris head downstairs to see what Matt and Nick got up to, before we have a pillow fort and movie night.