Damaged goods // T.Kaulitz

Prologue: I

-2006, Frankfurt-

My legs went as fast I could down the street, it was dark with little lighting. There was a man chasing after me, he was in black and a leather jacket.

He caught up to me and wrapped his arms around me, placing his hand over my mouth. I screamed but it was muffled.

"Sh! Im trying to help you!" He whispered angrily, pulling me into the alleyway.

He held me close as a car sped past, my eyes shut immediately as my whole body flinched. Two more went by before he released me, he was masked and hooded but I could see he had black eyeshadow on.

"You're part of that Tokio gang...why are you helping me?!" I panted stepping back.

"Just be grateful I did!" He walked off, hitting my shoulder as he went by, "And next time, if you're gonna steal from us then do it properly! Don't tell anyone I let you keep it either!"

He turned the corner. I didn't follow him, instead I leaned against the wall, catching my breath. The back of my head hit the wall as my eyes closed. Why didn't he take the money from me? I reached into my pocket and took out the money my father told me to get.

-

I stepped into my house and slammed the money on the coffee table. My father smirked at took it in his hands before leaning back into the couch.

"Did anyone see you?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"No..." I lied, remembering the words the masked boy said.

"Are you sure Keira?" He leaned forward again, my mom sat aside, trying to avoid saying the wrong thing.

"Si." I was trying to avoid it too.

"Because you know what these people are like! And if I found out you lied to me-"

"I'm not!" I cut him off.

"Don't talk over me!" He stood up, throwing the bundle beside my mother.

I stared him in the eyes with a vacant expression. He knew I wasn't scared of him any more and this annoyed him.

"One day you're gonna learn girl!" He pointed at me.

"Learn what?" I tilted my head and folded my arms.

"How to do this shit properly and not get caught! Now who saw you?!" He yelled.

"No one saw me!!" I yelled back.

"Bullshit!" His palm hit my face.

I gasped at the sharp pain and turned back at him. He wasn't stepping down.

"If they saw me do you think I'd still be alive?!" I held my face, my whole cheek was red hot.

"Go to your room!" He pointed in the direction of the stairs.

I did what he said and made my way upstairs. My room was on the end of the hallway. I closed my door and looked in the mirror to see a very obvious hand print. I ran my fingertips over it as a silent tear fell down the other cheek.

"Cunt..." I muttered, directing it at my dad.

I fell back on my bed, laying with me knees bent over the bottom. Why does he always get me to do the dirty work? I was lucky that boy helped me instead of kill me like he was supposed to.

My thoughts kept me up for hours, laying in the same spot and staring at the ceiling. Most nights are like this. The anxiety takes over me, as if one of the gang members will come to my house. They wont hesitate to kill my father, or me for that matter.

The thoughts then moved to my friend, the accident. The one that was my father's fault. He was the one who pissed off some bad people, I just so happened to have his car when it was hit.

Just the thought of the car made the feeling in my stomach churn. As if I was about to cry but no tears. I don't cry often, it'll all build up until I eventually break down.

I fell asleep thinking if the accident, how it felt to look over and see Taylor unconscious beside me. What it was like being dragged out the car half-conscious but no feeling anywhere and then seeing my friend being laid down next me. He died an hour later.