You're Not Safe {Harry Styles}

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Morgan dropped me back off around 8pm after we went to the mall and stuff. It was such a long day and I actually did have homework to do.

I walked in the house, "Mum. I'm back." I shut the door lightly behind me, taking my shoes off and walking to the edge of the staircase.

No answer. I figured she was either at work again or still at the neighbors. It may seem weird, but my mum is a cop. Odd, right? My own mother is a lady-cop living under the same roof as a criminal. Well, not literally living with one, but has a relationship with one. And she's completely clueless.

I carried my shopping bags up to my room and as I was walking up the stairs, I saw a figure standing in the dim kitchen. It didn't take me long to figure out who it was and as soon as they started moving towards me, I ran as fast as I could to the end of the hall and slammed the door, locking it and propping the chair up against it.

"Open the door, you bitch!" I heard Pete yell at the other end. I stood there staring at the door, with my hand resting on my chest, trying to catch my breath. Nobody scared me more than him and my heart was racing.

I backed away from the door, tripping over my backpack and stumbling backwards to the ground with a 'thump'

After I just convinced my best friend that he was a little more sane, I come home to have him waiting for me. Just my luck.

I didn't say a word, just let my breathing even out before I stood up again and walked over to turn my light on. It was getting dark and call me baby, but the dark was one of my fears. I'd rather get chased by a Cheetah while dressed in a meat suit than be left alone in the dark with my lingering thoughts.

I sat on my bed and cuddled up to my pillow, slowly letting tears escape my eyes. I can't help but think; what would've happened if he got ahold of me? God, he scares the actual hell out of me. Especially when he's drunk. You don't even want to know about the endless encounters we've had when he'd been drinking.

Like I said before, I try to avoid him at all costs. But sometimes I don't even notice that's he's here... Like tonight. I had no idea he was here, his truck wasn't even in the driveway! Sneaky bastard.

Things were starting to get quiet around me and my eyelids were growing heavy. Just as I was about to let sleep take over my body, I heard the loud thumps on my door again.

"JANE! IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW, Y-YOU'LL REGRET IT!" I heard him stutter from the other side of the door. I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter and tried to sing myself to sleep. Well I was trying to sing myself asleep but all that was coming out were sobs erupting from my chest. I sounded more like a dying animal.

If I could be anywhere else but here right now, that's all I'm asking for.

God, please make him go away. I silently prayed to myself.

"Jane, open the door baby. Please." Pete was talking in a calmer, lower voice. But I knew better. He was drunk, I could tell by the way he was talking to me and his mood swings.

I wanted to scream at him and throw stuff at the door to make him leave, but I just laid there motionlessly. My body would occasionally let out small whimpers and cries, but I was aching.

-

About 45 minutes later, I was still awake and Pete was still outside my door. He had left a few times, probably to go get more drinks and to use the loo, but he would always come back, shouting things at me to try to get me to open the door. He even went to the extent of trying to knock down the door by slamming his shoulder in it. But my door was too thick and he was too drunk to even put a splinter in it.