Eyes (Harry Styles)

((Disclaimer: this story is mostly fiction. This story is based on me but I get mentally abused by my grandfather, not my father, and not physically abused. My mom doesn't do drugs and my father is not abusive whatsoever. I've never been raped, or has had any sexual abuse. I don't mean to offend my parents or do anything like that. When I say scars I mean scars from beatings. Not from any self harm. Christina has never self harmed. Everything else is just made up for details and ideas included in the story.))

"I don't care, Christina! You're not going to that stupid concert of yours. You don't deserve it." My father said, picking up the wooden handle once more.

"But I won tickets for it! I'm not just going to put them to waist!" I said, experiencing another hard smack on my back.

"I don't give a shit! You aren't going and that's final!" He said, pushing me in the hallway after victimizing multiple beatings.

I don't care what I had to do. I was going to that concert. I won tickets for my favorite band and I'm not going to let my dad take that away from me. I locked my doors around my room and I tied an obstacle around each knob. Maybe I can manage to sneak out and they'll think that I'm just in my room.

I'd leave my iPod plugged in so they would think I'm listening to music. I think I could get away for a few hours.

I just wanted to get away from them. All my house consisted of was my dad screaming at my mom, and the smell of cocaine. I wiped the tears off of my cheeks and started applying a new layer of makeup. I finished and later got dressed in my outfit.

I wiped my eyes and just kept repeating to talk to myself.

"Only four more days until I get to move out."

I repeated again, and again.

I called my only friend, Ally. I gave her my other ticket that I had won. She is the only person that actually knows my life at home and doesn't judge me for it.

I texted her and asked if she'd come into my neighbor's driveway so I could sneak out successfully.

I stole a rope that my dad hit me with. I stole it so he couldn't hit me anymore. I hid it in my closet and took it out. I flung it out of the open window, and stepped out of it. I looked down and quickly looked back up, due to my immense fear of hights. My toes reached the rocks outside of window and I pulled the rope down from the window.

I ran ahead and occasionally looked back just to see if they saw me.

I ran to my neighbors house who thankfully wasn't home.

"Woah. What happened?" Ally asked.

"Why? What did I miss?" I said, looking down to see if I didn't cover any bruises or scars.

"Nothing. It's just your eyes."

"My eyes?" I said, looking to see if anything was wrong with my eyes.

"They just look different." She said, turning around and starting the car.

I forgot about it & reached for my seatbelt. As I pulled it across my chest, it felt very tender. Every part of my body felt tender. He's abused every possible part of my body.

He even took my virginity. Yes. My own father. The only reason that my parents had had me was for the sex, and they would've gotten an abortion, but when they found out that my mom was pregnant, it was too late to get one. The only reason that they went to the doctor was because she was bigger. They were too lazy to take her before that.

I reached into my bag to double check that I had the One Direction concert tickets.

I've always had a thing for Harry. I don't really know why. I just feel like he has a story. Like I do. I feel like he doesn't want to tell his story, like I don't. I feel like his tattoos speak for him. My scars and bruises tell my story.

We finally arrived at the arena.

It took awhile to park, but we finally got into a spot. We handed the ticket managers our tickets and he told us to have a good time.

We found our seats after about ten minutes trying to find them, and we sat.

The opening act, 5SOS came out. I've listened to their stuff before and I've always loved it. There was about a twenty minute break before One Direction came out. We were in the very first seats.

This was the only time that I forgot that I was abused. I forgot how I get no love in my family. I forgot how I was raped. I only forgot this when I looked at them or listened to their music. I know that every teenage girl says this, but I honestly feel it. I feel like there is some kind of special relationship I have with them. I just feel like I understand them, and they understand me.