It still hurts.

I'm finally gone.

"Your worthless!" Allen shouted, drawing his fist back once again punching his step daughter. Breanna, in the stomach. Don't you dare cry, she told herself clutching an arm to her chest. He shoved her to the ground and kicked her. "Now go to your room! Don't you come out until your ready to speak." She limped into her room and collapsed on her dirty bed.

Breanna, who preferred to be called Bree, was 19 years old and living with her abusive stepfather. Where is her mother, you may ask... She died a few years ago, from an overdose, leaving Bree with Allen. After months of being abused by the terrible man, she decided to go mute. No she didn't lose her voice, she chose to be mute. She felt no use in trying anymore, no use for talking, or breathing.

Breanna sighed and walked over to her dresser. Her long blonde locks fell in loose curls over her shoulders, her blues eyes were dark and sad. She opened her jewelry box and pulled out the small razor. She rolled up her sleeve, which hid her many scars and bruises. Some where given to her, some where made by her. She closed her eyes and pushed the blade into her wrist, then pulled it sideways.

After cleaning herself up she heard Allen outside her bedroom door. "WASTE, IM GOING TO WORK! KISS YOUR DADDY GOODBYE!" She slowly walked over to the door and opened it. The smell of smoke and beer filled her nostrils. She kissed him and the cheek and he shoved her to the ground, then walked out laughing.

Done. She was done. Bree pulled out a small bag and put warm clothes in it, since it was cold outside, and since she would be sleeping outside she had to keep warm. She ran into Allen's bedroom, he was drunk and didn't bother locking it. The room brought back haunting memories, of Allen letting his friends have their way with her. She shook her head and opened the closet door, the small box was easy to find, carelessly laying onto of the rack.  She picked it up and stuffed it into her bag, in there was enough money to last her at least a month.

Sliding into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. She shook the voice in her head telling her to forget it, to go in her room and cry. She pulled her boots on and slid the bag over her shoulder, pulling the door open and taking one last look at her home, she sighed and ran out the door. She ran across the street, towards the park. If she was lucky she would find a bench to sleep on. It was getting dark outside and that made her nervous, nothing good ever happens when its dark.

  The sun had completely set and the temperature seem to drop several degrees. Bree arrived at the park entrance, tomorrow she would go to the bus station and get a ticket for Ohio. Her best friend, Mia moved there two years ago. "Watch out!" A voice yelled, but it was to late. Bree got hit in the back of the head with a soccer ball. She fell to the ground and out her hand to the back of her head, Just my luck, Was all that came to her mind. She looked up to see a tall boy standing above her. Her first instinct was to get away, she quickly jumped to her feet. "I'm so sorry." He said, stepping closer to her. What kind of accent was that? British? Australian? To be honest she had no clue, he was obviously not from America though.

She felt a sudden pain in the back of her head and closed her eyes, cradling her head. "Erm.." The boy mumbled, running the back of his neck, she looked into his concerned, brown eyes. "Are you alright?" He asked again and she nodded her head. He took a step towards her and she immediately stepped back, fear taking over. "Whoa, whoa. I'm not going to hurt you." He whispered.

She broke down. Right there, infront of a complete stranger. Tears streaked her face, the way he spoke was something she hadn't heard since her mother passed. The sound of someone caring, of someone truly worried. He reached out and lightly grabbed her arm, she jumped at the touch, not only from fear but from the bruise Allen had left there. He noticed this immediately and let her go.

"What's taking so long mate?" An Irish voice rang out. A blonde haired boy ran up to them, followed by three others. The first boy held his arm out, signaling to the others to stay away. They stopped and looked at the crying girl, clearly confused. He then took a slow step to her and whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."  He sighed, trying to get her to look at him. " My names Liam, Liam Payne." When he eventually got a look at her face, his mouth fell open. She was bruised and bloody, tears stained her face, her clothes were worn and raggedy. "I would like you to come back to a hotel with me. To get you cleaned up, then maybe we can help you get somewhere?"

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So what do you guys think? I'll be updating the next chapter later on, please vote or comment! I'd love to hear what you think, good or bad. Also, it would be wonderful if you could give me ideas on what should happen or even another story I should write!