Adopted By One Direction

Chapter 17

Chapter 17:

Crushed.

Its like all my bones, all my soul, my heart, all crushed at once.

Why did I begin to trust them?

Why was I so hung up on the idea that they could actually be different?

Lying to me, playing me, using me, for what? My past?

What does that mean to them? Why do they care whats happened to me?

Most likely to use it all against me. To see what makes me crack. To inflict more pain on me. 

The fact that they are even sitting on my bed right now, terrifies me. I don’t care how many times they say they won’t hurt me, they have already. I want to scream in frustration, but the fear that settles in the pit of my stomach prevents me from doing so. The voice in my head continues to warn me, Don’t fall again. Put your guard up, they can’t hurt you if you don’t care. There is nothing left to hurt you with, remember, you are nothing. They don’t care about you, they never have. It was all a game, and you lose again. I thought you would be better at this by now, but you never learn, do you Madison. Well keep up, because now they know your secrets, they know just how to hurt you. 

That voice in my head that is always giving me tough love, yet never comes through to me in the end, it’s always a little to late to save me. But the voice always speaks truth about me, I am nothing. I am nothing but broken pieces that have no hope of being put back together. And why should they be put back together? Some people are meant to be abused, some people are meant to be punching bags. 

“Madison?” A voice that could only belong to Zayn breaks through my heavy thoughts and pulls me back down to earth. I don’t meet his eyes, I can’t bare to, I simply jerk my head up a little in response. “Please, please, tell us whats on your mind?” 

I think I’m going to be sick, but I must follow their endless orders. My voice begging to be strong continues to disappoint me. “You lied to me.” Is all my weak and shaking whispers can get out. 

I feel a hand gently grab hold of mine and I jerk back with the smallest shriek. The boys seem to be geared into panic mood witnessing my resurfaced fear. Some one tries to scoot closer to me and I panic, backing into the head board with a slight thump. My ears are suddenly filled with the chorus of coos, 

“Baby girl, please don’t be scared.”

“I know we messed up, but that doesn’t mean we don’t love you”

“Reading your journal was terrible and now we know we should have never done it, but we just want whats best for our baby.”

“Sweet heart, please look at me. I hate to see you so scared.”

“Love, I promise you’re safe, we would never dream of hurting you.”

“I wish you knew how much we love you, honey. We thought this was whats best for you.”

“Please don’t ever think we did this to hurt you, I swear we thought this would be a good thing. To help you carry all the baggage, to remind you that your not alone sweetie.”

Words that just a day ago would bring me into the invisible embrace of comfort, now mean nothing but fear.