Sometimes Running Doesn't Get You Very Far (Ed Sheeran x reader)

Midnight

You were asleep in bed. And anyone who didn't look twice at you thought you might as well be dead.

You're home swayed with the wind, but only so slightly that it made not much of a difference. With the wind came loud creaks from the walls that were far to thin.

But neither of those things woke you. You were far to accustomed to these noises for them to wake you or to keep you up at night. No, it was the pain in your side that woke you. As your body adjusted to attempt to get comfortable you moved to your left side and you're elbow hit it causing you to jolt up from your bed in pain.

You rubbed your side trying to sooth the pain but you only made it worse. You lifted your shirt up just high enough to see your side. You looked down at your bruised and cut side and let out a quiet huff. You sat up in your bed and sat up straight. You looked around your room. You looked at the paint that had been chipping for years now and the floor boards that were once a shiny auburn brown were now dusty and some of the wooden floor boards were sticking out of the floor.

Once you realized the pain wouldn't be stopping for a while you stood up and walked across the room towards your mirror. Again you lifted up your shirt to look at the painful injury that woke you up so early in the morning. You then looked at yourself. You looked yourself straight in the eyes. You felt them water a bit and your throat began to sting. Your body definitely wasn't the most beautiful. Bruises were scattered about your body and a newly added broken nose which was accompanied by two black eyes.

You let a single warm tear fall from yours right eye and sniffle silently. You stretch your torso a bit and then you walked back to your bed and proceeded to slowly lay yourself down onto your bed. As you closed your eyes you heard a knock. You thought nothing much of it at first and just assumed a rock from the gravel walkway hit the front door. But not even ten seconds later you heard it again. This time it was a little louder. Once more you brushed it off and again attempted to go to sleep; though you had little success. The knocking didn't stop.

As time past the knocking became relentless and louder. It shocked you that your parents didn't hear the noise. This noise definitely wasn't the most common thing in the world to them. Hardly anyone knocked on the door and even if someone did knock on the door it wasn't uncommon for your parents to not answer.

But usually when whoever was knocking at the door would soon realized no one was going to answer they stopped. But whoever decided to start knocking this early in the morning were persistent. After and hour or so of knocking they started to give up. They didn't stop knocking. The knocks just slowed down. This person was either trying to rob the house or they were trying to get someone's attention. You roll your eyes.

You sat up in your bed. The knocks still in earshot kept going. You slowly opened your door which creaked any time someone opened it. Luckily, the slower the door opened the creaks were quieter. You exited your room leaving the door open. You walked across the landing and then down the stairs. Once you reached the bottom of the stairs you looked down the small dingy hallway. You took a deep inhale and began to walk.

You walked down the hallway slowly trying not to make noise and trying not to wake anyone. As you make your way down the front door you come across the portion where glass is scattered around the floor. This glass is surprisingly not from beer bottles. This glass is from fallen pictures of your family. With each year came a new broken picture. But you had become so accustomed to this the broken glass, shredded up pictures and chipped frames never crossed your mind.