Runaway Rosie.

Three.

A soft knock at my door woke me up from the small nap I was taking. I quickly stood up and stretched, scurrying over to the door to open it. A Harold with a dazzling smile on his face stood in the open doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Took you long enough." My face remained expressionless as I registered what he said. My husband used to say those exact same words whenever I was doing something, whether it be cleaning the house or making him dinner, or other things he made me do... Nothing was ever good enough for him. 

*Flashback*

"For fuck's sake Rosie! Where's my dinner?!" I sprinted out of the kitchen, balancing his plate in one hand and beer in the other. I set it down in front of him softly as to not make it clink against the table and set him off.

"Took you long enough." He sneered at me, sloppily digging into his food. I stepped back hesistantly, awaiting for him to bark orders at me.

"What the fuck are your standing there for? Go scrub the bathroom floors or some shit!"

"I did." I squeaked in response, throwing my hand over my mouth.  "I'm sorry, I didn-"

It was too late. He kicked over the coffee table and charged at me, his large body slamming me into the adjoining wall. His giant hand found it's way to my throat, lifting me off the floor with ease. My feet dangled lightly, hitting the wall I was against and my hands gripped onto his arms as I gasped for air.

"Shouldn't of talked back you stupid bitch." He reared his arm back and swung forward, punching me in the stomach. The impact immediately knocking the wind out of me. In one swift motion he slung me across the room like a rag doll. I landed in a heap at the base of the television, a few kicks in my back followed and I just laid there, whimpering as pain shot through my whole body. 

"Clean this mess up and don't take so much damn time doing it you worthless piece of shit."

The front door slammed shut and my loud, heart-wrenching sobs echoing through the house was the last thing I heard before I fell victim to unoncsciousness.

*End Flashback*

A deep voice brought me back from my thoughts.

"Helloooo? Anybody home?"

"Oh, um sorry." 

"You okay?"

No. I'm not okay. On the inside I've been ripped to shreds. The outside has only suffered minor damage compared to my emotional and mental state.

"Yeah. Did you need something?"

"Dinner's ready."

"Oh..okay." He turned on his heel and I followed behind closely, running a hand through my knotted hair.

The aroma from the kitchen swept through the entire house. I had smelt it the moment I stepped out of the bedroom. I wasn't entirely sure what it was, but I knew it had to be good. 

"It's roasted chicken with biscuits and a salad, in case you're wondering." Harry held the swinging door open for me as I slid past him and into the kitchen. An unfamiliar face caught my attention and I scooted behind Harry. He didn't seem to notice my uneasiness when he grabbed me and pushed towards the strange boy.

"Hazza, is this your newest mark on your tally list?" My eyebrows furrowed in confusion while I stepped further away from them, settling into a corner near the refridgerator.

"No Lou, my Mum brought her home."

"Oh, well in that case..." The barefoot stranger in blue stripes, red suspenders, and tight pants ran at me, pure horror filling every ounce of my being as I sunk to the floor, taking my normal position of hugging my knees to my chest. 

"I'm Louis.." His voice trailed off when he noticed my reaction.

"Please don't hurt me..."

"What? Haz, why is she acting like she's afraid of me?"

"I don't know Boo. I don't know." Anne walked into the kitchen, always with perfect timing, and took notice of me.

"Harold, what did you do this time?"

"Nothing Mum! Louis just got excited and she got scared. Big deal."

"It is a big deal! You don't know what she's been through. Come here sweetheart." I slowly stood up with my arms tight around my stomach. It was sort of a calming mechanism for myself. It gave my mind the illusion I had support when I really didn't.

"Harry, is dinner ready?"

"The chicken is, let me check the biscuits." Anne led me to to the table we were at earlier and sat down next to me. Louis sat oppsite of her. Once Harry made the plates and passed them out, he sat down across from me. The three of them started eating and chatting while I just sat there staring at all the food. I was starved, but I couldn't bring myself to eat. I hadn't had something like this since I was with my Grandmother.

"He wouldn't let you eat this would he?"

The boys fell silent at Anne's question as they watched me intently. I numbly shook my head at Anne's question, wiping at my eyes before tears had a chance to fall.

"Bastard...Listen to me sweetheart, it'll be okay. Just eat up alright." I picked at the chicken, then nibbled at the biscuit. It was delicious. Soon enough my plate was empty and my stomach was still growling. Harry's curiosity ate at him during the meal, causing him to blurt out the one question nagging at him.

"Who wouldn't let her eat?" Anne started to make-up an excuse, but I cut her off, looking up to meet their eyes.

"My husband..."

"Husband?"

Louis' face fell slack and Harry started choking on the remains of his dinner. 

"Yes.." I whispered, not helping Harry's coughing fit. I excused myself from the table and hurried up towards Harry's bedroom. I climbed back under the covers and just laid there, listening to the hushed voices and faint gasps for air coming from downstairs.