A Second Chance

"i don't deserve them, anyways"

Sara

"SARA!" I heard a deep voice yell.

I instantly opened my eyes, and sat up. My heart was racing, and I was breathing quickly. Sweat ran down my forehead, and he ran into the room, out of breath.

"SARA!" He yelled again, lunging at me.

He began punching my face and stomach, holding me up by my hair. I screamed in pain, and he clamped his dirty hand onto my mouth, muffling my screams.

"You're coming home." He whispering, spitting on my face afterwards.

He grabbed my arm, and pulled me out of bed. He lifted me up by almost dislocating my shoulder, and pulled me out the room. Security guards started to run up to us, but he went back into the room and jumped out the window.

I hit the windowsill as he pulled me out, and I fell to the ground with a thump. My head hit the ground, but I was quickly pulled up by him, and he put me on his shoulder. I didn't move, knowing the more I moved the more pain he'd inflict upon me.

He ran for what seemed like ages until he ran into a dark, smelly building. I closed my eyes, and my head started to throb. Every inhale smelled like someone was dying. I opened my eyes again, and saw bloody walls, and dirty floors.

I instantly felt my heart race, once more, and I started squirming around, trying to get out of his grip. He held onto me tighter, and I could feel his nails digging into my skin. He dropped me onto the floor, and I managed to sit up.

All I saw was his big, cold hand slap me, and he started yelling things. I felt the hot tears run down my cheeks as he kept slapping me in the face. I couldn't understand his words under the loud slapping sounds, and the horrible smell.

He grabbed my hair once more, and pulled it harshly, making my entire head whip. My neck felt numb, but my eyes were wide open. He did it again, and I heard a cracking sound. My crying got harder, as he started to punch me again.

He walked away, and to the other side of the room. I saw a dirty table, clattered with empty and un-opened beer bottles. He opened one, and drank it all with one smooth swig. He walked back up to me, and started shouting again. He slapped me twice, three times, four, just until I finally blacked out.

I could still feel his hard, slaps on my face as I drifted off. I felt his hand grab my arm, probably leaving bruises, and his hard yank, as I hit my head against something. All I could see was darkness. I could feel his endless beatings, probably all his rage waiting to come out.

All the rage he's held in while I was breathing. Living. Actually getting clean air into my lungs. All the rages he's held in while I was out of that small, dark house. Once I finally stopped feeling his beatings, I still knew they were happening. I just couldn't feel them. Then, my eyes decided to open, and I could see I wasn't in the dark, dirty room.

I was in a room, all white, windows wide open, fresh air flowing, white walls clean, cream carpet soft. I stood up from the bed filled with hundreds of soft, white pillows and thick white blankets. I felt the soft carpet beneath my bare feet, and the cool clean air filled my lungs. I looked at my hands, clean and soft. I was wearing what seemed like a long white gown, almost shining. I laughed, and it echoed in the room. There wasn't a door, but I didn't care. I never wanted to get out of here.

I walked around the room, touching the beautiful shining white windowsill. I looked out the window and at London, shining in the sunlight. The people were smiling and the children were playing. Beautiful flowers bloomed below and the trees' leaves were greener than ever.

I took in one big breath, before letting it out again. It felt like the cool, crisp air cleaned out my lungs, and my body was left feeling like a feather. I kept breathing in deeply, before I started breathing normally again. I felt like I was just an ounce heavy, and I felt like I didn't have a single scratch on me. I looked around, and saw a big mirror spear on the other side of the room.

I walked over to it and looked at my reflection. My red hair softly cascaded around my face and down my shoulders. My chocolate brown eyes glittered. My skin was white as snow, and not a single scar, bruise or scratch was there. I smiled. The smile made the entire room seem like it was glowing. I laughed, and spun around. I put my hands up in joy, as I danced to the echo of my laughter. Happiness filled my body as I jumped, danced, laughed.

Then, everything went dark. The room that was once filled with clean, fresh air was no more. The beautiful white silky gown was replaced with a pale blue and white polka dot hospital gown. My once long, red hair was now in a messy bun, letting a few strands fall. My once soft, clean skin, was covered in cuts, scars, bruises, stitches, and bandages. My once bright smile, was turned into a deep frown as I opened my eyes and breathed in the disgusting, hospital smelling air.

I looked around, and saw nurses fiddling with the countless needles in my arms, the heart monitor beeping at a steady beat, the doctors who were cleaning up the bloody tools. I started to cry, wanting to go back to that beautiful room. The nurses tried to cheer me up, by telling me I was going to be fine. I shook my head vigorously.

No. I was happy. I'm not anymore.

I cried non-stop for hours. Just until the nurses told me Luke and Calum wanted to come in. I told them no. The nurses went back outside to tell them. I stayed in the room, sitting on the hard bed, with one brick like pillow under my head, crying my eyes dry.

But then I realized, that's my life. Once something good happens, it's taken away. I never deserved anything good. Neither do I deserve it now. So why should I fell happiness? I'm never going to be able to enjoy it, so why even be happy?

I never got second chances. I don't deserve them anyways.