Broken Heart (1D Fanfic)

Chapter 18

Arielle's P.O.V.

     We got off the plane to tons of screaming fans. I am surprised that more people didn't try to sneak into our section of the plane, seeing how the girls outside of the airport were pushing each other just to get a glimpse at one of the boys. It's quite scary, being in the airport with tons of people on the other side of the window pounding on it like they're at the zoo and you're the animal.

I noticed the girl, Natalie, wondering around the airport with her suitcase rolling behind her. She didn't seem to have a place to go. I opened my mouth to call her over, but as soon as I did, Liam took my hand and security guards rushed us out of the door.

----------------------- Later that night-------------------

It was concert time. I sat with Perrie and Eleanor in our closed off section as usual and watched the boys perform amazingly, as usual. I kept looking around for Natalie, but couldn't see her anywhere. I became more and more worried as the show went on, hoping she made it safely.

At last, the show was over and it was time for the after party. We walked backstage and I was greeted with a hug from Liam.

"Nice job, babe. Have you seen Natalie anywhere?" I asked, looking around.

"The girl on the plane? No." he said.

"Okay. I'm just a little worried because earlier I saw-"

"I'm right here" A voice said from behind me. I jumped and turned around, seeing Natalie standing right behind me.

"Oh, hi there." I said. "Where is your family?"

"Not here." she said simply.

"Who did you come with?" I asked.

"Nobody." she said. I looked at Liam with a confused look and he returned it. I motioned for her to follow me to Lou's office. I was seriously worried about this girl.

I sat down in a chair across from her in the empty office and studied her expression. She was impossible to read. She just sat there, as if everything that was happening around her was normal.

"Why don't you have anyone with you?" I asked, getting straight to the point.

"I don't have to tell you anything." she said coldly.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine." she replied, pulling her sleeves over her hands. I knew that trick all too well. I quickly leaned over to her, grabbed her wrist, and pushed her sleeve up. There, on her forearms, were bruises, cuts, and burns.

"No you're not. What's going on? I can help you." I said, looking straight into her eyes.

"No you can't!" she said, almost yelling. I looked at her, trying to decide what to say next.

"Is somebody hurting you?" I asked. She just nodded, obviously fighting back tears.

"If you tell me what's happening, I can get you out of the situation you're in." I said. She took a deep breath and started her story.

"I live with my drunk father and drugged up mother. They were good parents until my little brother died six years ago. That's when their addictions started. My father was never a happy drunk, and these bruises are from his beatings. The cuts are from broken bottles. My mother has taken countless drugs, along with the cigarettes that caused these burns." she said quickly, never making eye contact with me. I held back my tears to ask another question.

"So you ran away?"

"Many times. I live in Chicago and once hitch hiked all the way to Mississippi. My parents found me though, they always do. They also welcome me home with a good beating." She looked down at her hand that were folded in her lap. "This time I decided to run away out of the country, so they won't find me. I saved up for a year until I could afford a plane ticket and a suitcase. I didn't care where I was headed, so I threw a dart at a map and it landed here."

"And nobody has helped you get out of that house before you ran away?"

"Nobody knows. I always have long sleeves on, no matter how hot it his outside. My parents dressed me that way when the marks started being left at the age of six. They told me to never wear anything that showed my arms or they will hurt me."

"So why don't you tell anybody?"

"I would go to a foster home. I have a friend in school who is a foster child and she says it's the worst thing ever. She doesn't have a family and every night she sits on her bed and wishes for someone to adopt her. It's hard for her though, because she is almost thirteen and nobody adopts teenagers. I'm almost thirteen as well, so I can't be in foster care until I'm eighteen. I can't." A tear rolls down her cheek.

"Hey," I said, grabbing her hand. "It's alright. I'm getting you out of that house. It can't be worse in foster care than in your home."

Just then, Liam walks into the room quietly.

"Hey, do you have somewhere to sleep, Natalie?" I asked her softly.

She shook her head.

"You can come with us, then. We have a hotel with Harry, but he can sleep on the couch." I grinned.

She smiled weakly and stood up with me. "Most people call me Nat, by the way."

I chuckled and said "Okay Nat, lets go so you can get some sleep."

I put my arm around her and we followed Liam out of the door.