Taking Chances (Niall Horan Punk Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Eight: "Hell"

Warning: Very short Flash Back Chapter.

I covered my ears, trying to block the screaming and the noise out of my withering brain. If I heard him insult our parents one more time, I thought I was going to explode.

"You stay out all night! You break every law known to man! What gives you the idea that we'd let you get another car if you can't even pay any attention to the road? You're too busy being stoned!"

"At least I get out of the house! You stick Bri in here all day without anything to do! She's probably bored out of her mind and ready to kill herself just to get a rush in this hell hole!"

I squeezed my ears now, hoping the pain would keep my mind from focusing on the harsh words being exchanged. The moment dinner was over, he stepped through the door with the keys to his Chevy, a look of shame on his face. Needless to say, he wasn't too sorry when they rejected him.

"She's a book worm! That's what she does! She reads! She gets good grades! What do you do? You get high and drunk to the point where you can even tell us where you were two minutes ago!"

"She's doing this because she's got nothing else to do!" he boomed, his voice echoing oh so loudly in my ears. Eventually tears began to fall as I scrunched my body together in hopes of keeping his filthy words and insults away from the pristine atmosphere I'd trapped myself in.

"And I bet she wants out!"

Footsteps bounded up the steps, vibrating the floor so hard to the point where I could feel it in my chest. My door slammed open, the creak it usually held silenced from all of the booming noise that had been given all night. His brown eyes quickly darted to mine, only turning soft for a slow second. He grabbed my arm and - for a moment - dragged me from the bed. His grip was too tight to pry off with my tiny fingers, but God knows I tried.

"Let go!" I screamed, my small, fragile voice shrilled through the air. When I couldn't get him to ease up, I began to scream and holler and cry, my throat eventually hurting. I even tried hitting him, but it wasn't working.

"Let her go!" our mother screamed, worry and utter fear in her eyes as she pleaded for him to drop her baby; the innocent and little girl she'd always adored because of her achievements and high hopes in life. Her naive view on what she wanted to be when she was older.

"Damn it, just let her go!"

He literally slammed me to the floor, ignoring my painful cries. It was as if he didn't know his actions hurt me the most - and not only his physical being, but his words. All of it hurt.

I cried out when I felt a pain in my leg, but he completely ignored it.

"You corrupted me, turned me into something I'm not. And I won't let that happen with her," he growled, literally almost foaming at the mouth with his anger boiling just beneath his now hot skin. I stared in utter fear, eyes wide and heart hammering against my rib cage so hard it hurt.

"You did this to yourself," our father immediately said, trying to be calm so he could also get his baby girl back. "Don't take this out on her when she knows nothing."

"You think she's too innocent to know what I've been out doing?" he screamed back, brown eyes erupting with fury. "She knows that the old me is gone and there is no tuning back! She's old enough to know that!"

"Please don't hurt her!" mother screamed out, holding her tears back. But as strong as she tried to be for me, I knew deep down everyone was scared to the point of death. If we didn't find something to sooth us, we'd all die.

He picked me up with his harsh grip and dragged me out of the house, throwing me in the passenger seat and slamming the door shut. I clung to the window, wishing to be with my parents; wishing to be safe. I felt no such thing with him, and that made everything worse.

"Where are we going?" I cried as he sped off, hoping my tears would stop eventually. If not, he might get irritated and slap me to no end just so I'd shut up. At this point, he was capable of anything.

"I'm taking you to a safer place. Where you can be yourself and not have to worry about anyone else's permission on what you want to do."

"But I don't wanna go there," I hiccuped. "I want to be home. I want to be in bed."

"You can sleep when we get home."

"You're not taking me home!" I shouted, the noise louder now that we were in a confined space. "You're taking me to hell!"

He didn't seem phased by my cursing, even if I was only twelve. By now, he was used to babies saying things like that. It was no use trying to arise a reaction out of him.

We didn't get a chance to get back to wherever he was taking me, because police sirens sounded, and everything went in slow motion.

Police cars shoved us into a ditch far off from a neighborhood, and they quickly threw him out of his seat with as much force as possible. They had to rip my door open to slide me out, and once they did, I watched as the jerked him harshly into the back of a cruiser. Then they drove me home, putting me back in my parents possession.

I'd never been so afraid and unsafe in my life. And I hoped to never feel that way again.

Ever.