Love Can't Protect You Now

Chapter 1

Beyoncé's POV:

This didn't seem real.

My wrists and ankles were cuffed and the chains would make a clingy noise each time we would go over a bump in the road.

I rested my head in the palms of my hands, and rubbed my tired eyes with my fingertips. They hadn't even told me where they were taking me, but quite frankly I didn't care, as long as I was out of that other place.

They really think it's me that did this to my family. God I missed them so much. It had been two months since...their passing if that's what you want to call it.

I missed my mothers beautiful smile, and her warm embrace, and the smell of her perfume every time she walked by. My sisters flamboyant personality, and her long gangly legs that she would wrap around my curvy frame every time she would hug me.

My father. My father taught me so many life lessons, and at times I seriously disliked him, but deep down I always loved him no matter what.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when the van came to a stop, and the doors opened to two police men. I blinked my eyes to adjust myself to the daylight. It was a gloomy day, with grey clouds in the sky and raindrops bounced off the roof of the van.

The two policemen yanked me up by the top of my arms, and tightened their grips on me to stop me from trying to escape again, after many times of trying and failing to do so.

My ankles were still cuffed which restricted my leg movement. Failing to co-operate and walk the two policemen dragged me along still holding me upright.

I looked up into the grey sky, and raindrops fell down my face and making my long brown hair wet. I'd always loved the rain, ever since I was a little girl, I'd go out and play in the rain even though my mother would tell me not to, telling me I would catch a cold.

The memories of my childhood made me smile to myself, but then I snapped back into reality and realised what was happening to me.

I looked up to be faced with an old looking mansion from the Victorian era, with bars barricaded across the French Windows. A sign read 'Broodmore Mental Institution for The Criminally Insane'.

Nothing surprised me anymore. I knew I wasn't crazy, I and know for sure I did not murder my family. Even though everyone was adamant that I was lying, and simply came to the conclusions I was insane.

We walked up the big steps at the entrance to the mansion, and the policeman to my left rang the doorbell with the hand that wasn't gripping my arm tightly, probably stopping blood circulation.

The door opened and we were greeted by more security, I was handed over by the policemen to two other security people, who gripped my arms and guided me through the hall into the main 'reception' area. I looked up and saw a long, wooden spiral staircase with people leaning over the banisters staring at me.

Whispers echoed through the building, and I couldn't quite make out what they were saying.

"Name" the woman sitting at reception asked me in a rude manner.

"Beyoncé" I replied dryly looking down at the scrawny woman, with skin as pale as snow and her shoulder length blonde hair was tucked behind her ear as she began typing on her computer.

"Surname" she stated rather than asked.

"Knowles" I replied in an agitated tone, I just wanted to know why the fuck I was in this place? It wasn't me! Why won't they realise that, and go and find the person who murdered my whole fucking family?!

The woman scoffed, and continued typing on her computer.

"The one who murdered her own family huh? Oh they'll have fun with you here sweetie" she said in a sarcastic tone.