I'm Torn Between Three (One Direction Love Story)

Chapter 21. It hurts...

Dev’s POV:

“F-Father.” I stuttered. My eyes widened. The heavy built tall man stood at the door frame with a devilish smile on his face. The stench of alcohol filled the room instantly. It looked like he got stronger since the last time I saw him. He was dirty. His clothes were distressed. “Miss me?” His dark deep voice asked. I examined him through slightly blurry eyes since the Nyquil was kicking in. He held something behind his back. I began to scoot out of the bed slowly. “W-what are you doing here?” I stammered trying not to freak out. “What? Can I not see my low life of a daughter after about a year?” He asked stepping closer and closer to the bed. The steps he took made an eerie loud sound against the floorboards. By now, I was already at the edge of the bed. My plan was to literally jump out of the balcony. Yes, it may be two stories high but I’d rather get hurt than die at the hands of my father. “Y-you s-stay back. I’ll call the c-cops.” I reached for my phone on the nightstand yet it wasn’t there. It must’ve fallen under the bed. I stared back at him and he stared at me with a half-smile. Slow music still played echoing in the silence. We were both waiting for one of us to make a move, but it was mostly me he was waiting for. Without a second thought, I was going to book it. Before my drowsy legs could make it to the balcony doors, my father pulled me down by my ponytail. He dragged me across the floor as I screamed and hollered. “Shut the fuck up!” He yelled. My tears were like tsunami tides in my eyes. He used the same thing he used my whole life, the whip. I could feel the blood coming out each slash he made. When he got tired of it, he beat and slapped me. I lost my voice after screaming for five minutes straight. Through grit teeth, he let out strings of curse words. He insulted me, and with each cut he made on my body it felt like he was carving those insults on me. “Stop it please.” I whispered through my cries. The fetal position really covered my face from getting hurt yet he still got to it. He made sure that he whipped and beat every inch of my body. “Get on your back!” He yelled. I was curled up in a ball facing away from him. The unbearable pain made me unable to move. “I said get on your back you fat dirty whore.” He kicked my back hard with his heavy work boots. My back arched up as I whimpered begging for mercy. My breathing came out short from time to time. Even breathing caused me excruciating pain. His big foot was just about to stomp on my stomach when a knock came to the door. “Is anyone home?” Someone called. My father put his finger to his lips gesturing to be quiet. “You’re lucky I can’t kill you…yet.” He said looking down at me with disgust. His big foot stomped on my stomach knocking the wind out of me. I literally could feel the all the air leave my body. I curled up on my side trying to breath; gasping for oxygen. “Now listen here you little cunt.” His big rough hand grabbed my face in a vice grip turning it to him. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll fucking murder you in your sleep. You can never escape me you worthless piece of shit. Nobody loves you. Nobody cares about you. And nobody can protect you. I still wonder why boss wants your ugly fat bitch ass.” He said. I ripped my face from his hand. Through my struggle of breathing, he lifted whatever remained of my shirt. “I guess he just wants an easy fuck.” He muttered. My bra got undone and fell off long ago. The only thing that remained intact was my underwear. “Soon, I will have my way with you. Just like good old times, right dear?” He asked. My mind was shutting down; falling in and out of consciousness. “See you later.” He spit at me before leaving. I could feel puddles of liquid around me. Through my hazy vision, I figured it was my blood that gushed out of my wounds. I still tried to catch the breath that left me. A part of me didn’t want to breathe anymore. All it caused me was more pain than necessary. As much as I wanted to knock out on the floor, I couldn’t. The hard surface wouldn’t be good for my aching back. I extended my arm grabbing the duvet. No matter how much this hurts, I’m going to get on this bed and sleep. I know Harry or someone will come for me in the morning. They just have to.  Slowly but surely, I dragged myself onto the bed. My strength was struggling since it was at its lowest. Pain surged like electric shocks. My tears fell freely. Sobs were somehow stuck in my throat. The soft music mixed with my sniffles. I looked at the time. It was 2 in the morning. I looked back up at the ceiling. My eyes slowly started to close before I instantly passed out.