Her Guardian (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Prologue

Chills rise all over her petite body as her fragile figure hides in the corner of the small and dark bedroom. Her blonde hair falls all over her pale face aimlessly as she tightly holds her beautiful messy hair and tosses it behind her ear offhandedly.

Their loud voices penetrate the calm and voiceless atmosphere of their remote neighbourhood. The father's coarse voice arises waves of nervousness throughout her shaking body, his strong knock at the door brings down more tears to wet her angelic red cheeks like an overflowing river. The source of knocks on her old wooden door is heard from miles away; the man outside her bedroom forces her through enough troubles and turns her life to hell. What brings more tears and an odd force to resist his monstrous calls is knowing that the man who should protect her is willing to put his only daughter through danger.

Her mother's voice shouts for help; however, no one dares to protect them from the devil. Anastasia's heart continues to pound in terror and pain, so much pain. Achiness immediately takes over her whole body followed by a flooding river of tears. In order to hold her ground, she puts her shaking hand over her mouth to stop the agonizing noises that leaves her mouth unstoppably.

All of sudden, with a strong knock, the door opens widely giving access to the monster to storm into the dark room and take hold of his fragile prey. When his figure becomes clear in front of her eyes, Anastasia does her best to break free from his dirty hands; nevertheless, his strong grasp holds her petite body tightly. Although Anastasia's yearn to scream for forgiveness, for help, for mercy, she is quite sure nobody can help her from the devil himself, not even God. In frustration, she gives up her inner battle and awaits her faith.

"You think you can hide from me doll face?" His garish voice utters these words in a high pitched tone as she tears continues to fall down her cheeks. He takes a hold of her shaking face with his left hand as an odd look of disgust appears on his features. Deep down, the father has strong feelings of hatred toward his daughter. Surprisingly he believes she is pathetic, powerless, fragile, and absolutely useless which enhances his feelings of hatred for her.

"I-m.. I'm s-orry f-ather." She tries to apologize for a mistake she hasn't committed, she seeks to beg for his mercy because, deep down, she knows what he is able to do. Nonetheless, it is too late to ask for mercy since demons already possesses his conscious.

"Sorry? Sorry for what little whore?" He shouts again and slaps her left cheek strongly then adds, "are you sorry for being helpless?" He shouts again with another slap on her right cheek and continuous to utter such unbearable words, "sorry for being pathetic? of no use?" A strong urge to harm her pumps adrenaline all over his body, with a rough push, he throw to the hard cold ground mercilessly.

More tears fall down her cheeks as she tries to move; however, her body fails her, the soreness is unbearable. Wave of relief crushes her straightforwardly when he leaves her room. She squeezes her eyes, trying to erase the pain away. She hated herself for being so weak. She hated herself because she is not strong enough to stop him from terrorising her and her mother.

Her ears catch her mother's voice begging him to stop as she tries to drag her petite legs and push herself up. She fails at first, but immediately gathers her force and stands up. She tries to drag her short feet ignoring the achiness in her waist, trying to keep still by placing her hand on the wall.

"Please, take me instead of her." Her mother's voice sends shivers throughout her body. She hates to see him treating her mother that way, she detests not being able to help her mother. But, they are too weak to face him.

"Take you? I can't take a helpless woman like you." He shouts again as he throws an empty glass straight to the wall before him causing more tears to escape her already swallowed eyes. Then he added, "she can manage herself there; she is way stronger than we thought."

"For heaven's sake, she is eighteen years old." Her mother voice yells again slapping her again causing a gasp to escape her trembling lips.

"Watch your tone bitch." He screams through gritted teeth.

"Please, don't do this to her, she is our daughter." she tries to convince him with a sweet tone even though she is crying. Her helpless words causes a loud laugh to escape his lips mockingly and the following words, "girls like her are working hard to bring money with whatever it take."

"How c-an you? How can you do that to our baby?" Her mother weakly questions. She takes a loud inhale. It causes the poor girl to sit down and kneels down behind the door shaking.

"This is what you should do in our world nowadays." He yells again making her mother squeeze her eyes shut. The mother hates this situation, she hates his carelessness, heartlessness, and pitilessness.

"My dear Anastasia, come to your father." His voice makes Anastasia gasp in terror. She wishes to run, run away but she can't. She stands up from her position and walks toward him.

"Do you want to please your father darling?" He asks mockingly. He takes a step toward her; the action sends shivers down her spine. Her father feels it. He feels her fear and enjoy every second of it. Her weakness makes him stronger laugh. Breaking the tense silence he asks, "Do you?"

Anastasia helplessly shakes her head which make him utter, "Good girl. Now go to sleep because tomorrow we will go to New York so you can begin your new job." He informs her coldly.

"What? No." She screams with wide open eyes causing her to slap her harshly.

"A no is not an answer for me darling." He slaps her again making her weak body to fall on the ground violently. She is exhausted and with such bad news, she feels like she is about to fall into abyss of rage as well as darkness. She refuses the idea to go and work in such a big city. Nevertheless, she cannot disagree.

"Thank your god I have the balls to help you, little whore." He states again turned his back heading to the door. "She has to be pretty tomorrow, Mr. Barnabas will take us to New York early." He adds as he moves to the other direction leaving the helpless girl lying on the ground.

"I'm proud of my daughter; she is going to be a baby Doll." The monster within his black soul speaks with a devilish smile as he lets a playful smile to find its way to his face.

Once such words leaves his lips, he exits the house proudly, allowing his daughter to finally find her voice and scream, because she knew, at that moment, her life will change forever, and there was no turning back. 

The following account is a tale of a sudden, imperfect, and impossible love; it cherishes our love story and designates its flawlessness.