Some scars don't heal || m.c

0.3

Song of the Chapter- Jasey Rae by All Time Low

*TAYLOR'S POV*

"New Follower: Michael5SOS"

What?! Michael followed me?! No, that can't be right, that sort-of thing doesn't just happen!

I run up to my room and grab my laptop from where it lies on my desk. Back in the sitting room, I open it onto Twitter.

Clicking on Michael's profile, I held my breath. Sure enough, there it was.

'Michael5SOS follows you'

A squeal crept out of my mouth as I jumped up and started to totally and utterly freak out over this. My idol, my hero, follows me!! Taking a deep breath, I started to type out a DM to him to say thank you. He'd never see it of course, or reply, but that wasn't the point behind it. I needed to thank him. Not just for this but for everything; for keeping me alive.

"Taylor_is_a_penguin: Hi Michael, I'm sorry to bother you, I know that you probably won't read this, but if you do happen to, please don't feel pressured into replying if you don't want to. <3 I just wanted to say thank-you. I know this probably doesn't make much sense considering that you have never actually met me, but you are my sunshine. Literally. You make my world light, even in times of darkness and that means so much to me; I can't even tell you how much. Thank you for everything, not just the follow- but don't get me wrong, I am so incrediably grateful for that too, it means the world- but for so much more. You have kept me alive and for that I cannot thank you enough. Please don't ever change; you are perfect and you help so many people without even realising you are doing it. I love you, we all love you. Thank you. xx"

I sent that, after reading it though and cringing at how sappy it sounded. Grinning from ear to ear, I closed my laptop and began to dance wildly to the music still blasting from my speakers. During my spasticated dance party, my foot caught on the mop that was still lying on the floor of the living room. Wait, the mop. Cleaning. My father. Shoot! I'd forgotten all about that in my Michael craze.

Racing to start the cleaning, I heard my parent's car pull up in the drive-way. Panic building in my stomach, I quickly began mopping the kitchen's tiled floor, just as the front door opened and my parent's walked though it. I swallowed a gulp as my father stepped into the room.

"What is this bloody noise?!" He screamed, slamming my phone off of the speakers and throwing it acroos the room.

I wimpered as I saw it hit the floor and my mother raced over to grab it before any further damage would be caused to it from my father's rage. I stayed quiet, knowing any answer that I could give would only aggravate him more; he didn't want an answer, he only wanted something to take out his anger on, and that something happened to be me.

"Why is the cleaning not done?! You useless piece of lazy-assed rubbish! You never do anything to help out! All you do it sit in your room all day listening to those stupid, good-for-nothing pop bands of yours! They will never do anything with their lives and neither will you! Your fat and worthless! You will never amount to anything, just like that stupid Michael Clifford thing you like so much! Useless pop band. He's useless and so are you!" Stepping forward, he slammed a fist into my jaw.

The anger fueling through me at his words made me reckless and stupid. How dare he insult Michael! 5SOS have made everything better; everything that he makes wrong! Fearlessly, or idiotically, I step forward to meet him and yell straight back at him.

"Why would you say that?! He's kept me alive when I've wanted to die because of you!" I scream in his face, trying to put as much force as possible behind the words.

Flames burn behind his eyes and something snaps at my scream.

"Well we'd all be better off if you would have just died so why don't you?!" Thw words hit harder than the punch that is thrown with them.

I'm slammed across the room with the next hit. Into the glass cabnit that lies there. It smashes at the impact and I feel warm liquid spread down my face into my eyes from my head. A boot kicks into my side over and over until I hear something crack and a splitting pain fills my right side. Kicks are aimed at my legs, sides, arms, neck; anywhere he can get to. The pain is immense, more so than anything he's ever caused before. Finally a sharp agony comes in the back of my head as a foot crashed down on my face and my head is kicked into the floor. The sweet relief of unconsioness soon follows and everything goes black...