A Breath of Something Great -Niall Horan

A Breath of freedom

Chapter 1

I was woken by the glass cutting through the bare skin on my neck, the only flesh I dared to expose to chilly air of my apartment. I would call it home but that would be a lie. Calling it home would be a form of torture on its own, coating my mouth in the burning venom of untruthfulness, just like calling this monster in front of me 'dad' would be.

"Aaliyah! Aaliyah you good for nothing useless, unwanted, piece of crap! Get up before I smash the rest of this bottle on that empty head of yours! Fetch me my dinner and then rub my feet!"

Drunk.

That's what he is.

And that's what he should be called.

An abusive drunk. A useless father who treats his daughter, his only daughter, like a slave.

My name is Aaliyah Raheem and I am a Muslim. I was born in Pakistan and moved to England at the age of 8. After enduring the burden of being a misfit in a culture so different from my own, one in which women are allowed so much freedom yet you feel trapped inside yourself, unable to speak to anyone, unable to relieve the stress and pain of loneliness and unable to talk or make friends due to cultural differentiation.

But now I have grown accustomed to it, the culture I mean. I have lost the stereotypical accent, wear clothes that are the same as everyone around me but still covers my body, and now partake in activities that are both normal in this society and also prevents me from disobeying my religion.

My religion is the one thing that has stayed the same since my mother passed away. Why? How? Because of him, the ruthless man that I am tied to with ropes of our cursed blood. That's right. he worked her to death. As well as being a housewife and an amazing mother and wife, she was forced to work day and night to feed her daughter, for whom she craved success, and her ungrateful husband who expected to be treated like a king and drank her hard earned money instead of working and feeding his family. She grew old and tired and depressed due to the constant abuse from her husband.

Yes, I am well aware that, in Islam, drinking alcohol is forbidden, but my father has no care for that. I, on the other hand, strive to remain the perfect muslim that my parents, or rather my mother, brought me up to be.

Getting up from my cold, damp, hard bed, making my way to the cramped kitchen, making a plate of the food I had cooked after school. Setting it infront of him, I brought his repugnant feet on to my lap and, swallowing the bile rising in my throat, started to rub his feet. After 2 years of suffering this, I should be used to this, but I'm not.

All of a sudden, I feel a blow to my head. Realising that my father had thrown the plate of food at my head, I screamed, feeling the shards of china penetrating the skin, creating cuts so deep and bruises so dark that they would most probably never go away.

"Shut up, you piece of filth!" he yelled, slurring his words.

"I have heard enough of your aggravating voice for life! You can't even cook decent food and take care of me then how do you expect to do so from your husband??!! I can't keep you in my sight, I'm sick of paying to keep an ugly, useless piece of shit like you alive! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!" he roared. I froze and my blood ran ice cold. I was used to verbal and physical abuse, and even though i should have seen this coming, I was still shocked. I always expected to leave on my own, without anybody telling me to, but never had i expected this.

I ran to my room, barely looking where I was stepping as the tears, tears that were a mixture of pain, fear and panic as well as relief, happiness and joy, blurred my vision. I reached for a back pack, my school one would have to do, and shoved clothes and my life time savings that my mother had helped me build, giving me a small amount each week to save up, zipping it up and through it over my shoulder, on to my back.

Hoping that my father had passed out, I sprinted out of my room, down the hall and towards the front door, swinging it open, stepping out, shutting the door and never looking back with one thought in my mind.

I'm free.

A/N

Ok guys so here is my first ever story that I've written and yes I know that the chapter is very long and the boys don't make an appearance but I had to tell you guys the begining of Aaliyah's story so I hope you enjoy and some feedback would be sooooo helpful. Thanks!x -N