Don't Ask // l.payne

*Dream*

   *4 years ago*

Breath, breath, he hurts you more if you show signs of emotion!

My Dad was drunk again, his target was me and I was about to get it.

"Jazzmyn! Get your butt down here!" my Dad shouted from down the stairs.

I looked at my Mum with pleading eyes, she too was shaking. She mouthed an 'I'm sorry" as little Abby whimpered in her arms.

"Jazzmyn!" I panicked, trying to postpone the pain and pray for protection, "I-I coming!" I breathed a prayer to my God that my Dad wouldn't hurt my frail mother, my precious little brother or my little brother, just me.

I ran down the stairs, met halfway by a steaming, bald man with a white tank top covering his large body.

"When I tell you to move, you MOVE!" he growled and took my wrist, twisting it and laughing at my pained screaming.

"Yes father." I seethed, unwilling to fold under his death wish gaze.

His smile faltered the slightest bit and he yanked me to the dining room, more commonly known in our house as the smrinking room.

"Why didn't you do your chores?!" he yelled and pionted to each and every cigerett bud and beer bottle filling the revolting room, "I'm so sorry! Joey's very ill and needed me!" I gulped back the tears threatening to spill over.

I knew I wasn't coming out of this in one piece.

"There was nothing I could do." I whispered.

"Let that ugly boy die!! You need to clean! Not worry about silly things like that!" He yelled and lurched at me, hitting my body with great force, I stumbled back but I didn't fall.

"World knows what I want to do to you right now." he whispered and threw a glass bottle at the wall to my right.

It shattered and the glass flew around me, warm blood dripped to my cheek bones but I didn't dare make a sound.

"Wheres that worthless kid?" He stormed out and up the stairs, I yelled and ran after him but he punched me square in the jaw and more blood dripped from my face to my chest.

Once I stood up, he was already in Joeys room, yelling at the poor child.

I ran in, "Don't touch him!!" I screamed and attempted to take care of the boy locked in a panic attack when my dad cursed and his skull ring connected with my head.

Pain shot through my body, my legs gave out, my vision deteriorated, my head spun and I laid on the floor, blood pouring from my head and onto the floor as my Dad yelled and pulled his fist back for one more shot.

*End of dream*

My own murder scream filled the air and I woke up on the floor, next to my piano.

My sweat hit the ground and my breathing grew faster. I stood up and ran to my bathroom.

I sobbed, ran my fingers through my hair, mumbled under my breath, collapsed on the floor but got up soon after.

My fist rammed the wall, leaving dents.

I avoided the mirror but held my head between my hands, rocking back and forth on my feet, then it hit me,

If I can't face up to the appearance of my past, I can't see my future clearly.

I shut down all noises and stood up straight, I wiped every tear and stared at the floor.

I drew my hair back and pulled my left ear foreword, I looked at the crimson scar in the mirror, a permanent marking from the beast who was my father.

I forced myself to stare at the mark until my eyes were glued to it. I noticed movement and looked at the curly leaning against the doorway,

"He did that." He stated quietly and I nodded. My lip trembled and he ran to my side, pressing me to his chest and singing the song he sang on the roof.

These boys were sent to me for a reason.

(A.N) SCARY/SAD/ SWEET/REVELATION? YOU CHOOSE. THIS CHAPTER IS NOT THE NIGHT OF THE CONCERT, ITS WHAT I CALL A FILLER/HELPER CHAPTER. THIS IS AN EXPLANATION OR HELPER FOR ME IN THE LATER CHAPTERS IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

-EMILY