Author's Note: Ok, so this is the first story that I'm actually going to finish. If anything is misspelled or wrong, please tell me. And the chapters are going to be separated by POV's. So, if they seem short, I can't help it. Most POV's are a front and back handwritten notebook page. And can you please send suggestions for titles of my book? I don't like my title and can't come up with another one. And can you send me covers if you can? Thanks.
-Jessie
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I unlock the front door as quietly as I can, and pull it open, wincing as it creaks. "Hopefully dad isn't waiting for me." I think to myself as I slip through the door and look around. Shit, Steve is waiting for me. I see him sitting on the couch in the living room. Which is, conveniently, right in front of the stairs I need to get up to go to my room. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. I walk as quietly as I can to the stairs, but dad turns around. I wince when I see that he has an almost empty beer bottle in his hand. "Why are you late getting home?" He slurrs. "I had detention." I say quietly, but knowing that he heard me. "You, what?" He asks slowly, taking a swig from his beer. "I had detention." I say louder, not looking him in the eyes. He gets up, stumbling a little as he walks over to me. "You had detention." He sneers. "And why did you have detention?" He slurrs, stopping when he's right in front of me. I wince and cower, my eyes flickering to the stairs. But I know not to run, it will only make him madder. "I just defended myself when someone tried to hit me." I reply. "Oh, sure!" Steve says, sarcastically. "You JUST tried to defend yourself. Knowing you, you probably started it!" He says, venom clear in his voice. He raises his hand and I yelp as he slaps me. I'm surprised how it even hurts anymore. I should be used to this daily abuse. "Sophia, do you know why you're mother left us?" Steve asks. Shit, this little session is about to get a lot worse. You see, my mom left us for no reason when I was little. My dad blames it on me, saying that I was an accident, and if I hadn't of been born, then mom would've stayed. At first, it hurt, even now now it does, but it doesn't hurt as much now. I recite my usual answer, "No, why?" I wince and yelp again, as he slaps me in the exact same place. "Because you were born. You were an accident, a fucking accident. If you hadn't of been born, she would've stayed." He growls, punching me in the gut. I double over in pain, clutching my stomach. Tears gather in the corner of my eyes, but I won't cry. He'll only see it as a weakness and hurt me more. I feel blows rain down on me, hitting me everywhere. My stomach, gut, face, arms, legs, everywhere hurts from him hitting and kicking me. After what seems like an hour, but in reality has only been fiften minutes, he stops. "You can go now." I hurriedly get up, wincing as sharp needles of pain explode all over my body. I clutch my gut, trying to get my breath back. I stumble over to the stairs, clutching the rail as I climb them. I run/stumble over to my room, feeling a black out coming. I stop running and after a few minutes, the feeling passes. I start walking again, and make it to my room. I turn the handle, opening the door as quickly as I can. I go to my dresser, grab my iPod and earphones, and run as quickly as I can to the front door. I look at Steve, disgusted, as I see him passed out on the couch. holding a new bottle of beer. I close the door behind me, and start running down the street. I go to the park and run over to the woods, the one place where I can be myself. I turn on my iPod and put it on shuffle. Fences by Paramore comes on and I turn it up and start singing, letting all of my pain and sadness out and putting it into my singing.
"I'm sitting in a room, made up of only big white walls and in the halls, there are people looking through, the window in the door, they know exactly what you're here for. Don't look up just let them think, there's no place else you'd rather be. And now, you can't turn back, because this road is all you'll ever have." I sing, feeling my pain go away. All of a sudden, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I pause my music and look down, but notice the person is close, so I back up a step. I look at the ground, knowing not to look up, because if I did, he'd hit me. "Yes?" I ask. "You sing really good." The person, who I notice has an Irish accent, compliments me. I'm tempted look up but I don't. "No, I don't. I sing like a hurt cat." I say. "No, you don't. And why are you not looking at me?" He asks, concern etched in his voice. I'm confused. Why hasn't this person hit me yet? "Because then you'll hit me." I cringe, now he'll hit me for sure. "No, I won't. I promise." He gently puts his fingers under my chin, I cringe, but let him lift my head up. I glance at his eyes, but look away quickly, instead looking at a point behind him. He moves so I'm looking at him, but I look away again. He sighs and gives up. "I really won't hurt you, and by the way, what's your name?" He asks, putting his hands in his pockets. I give up and let him look me in the eyes. I'm scared that he'll still hit me, but I don't look away. "I'm Sophia, what's your name?" He looks surprised. "Nice name, but you really don't recognize me?" I look him over and he looks familiar, but I can't place it. "You look familiar, but other than that, no." I reply. He sighs and looks relieved. "My names Niall. Niall Horan. Now do you recognize me?" I think for a minute, but come up with nothing. "No, you don't. Should I recognize you?" I ask, confused. "I'm in a band called One Direction." Niall smiles, looking happy. Suddenly, I see four other guys start running up. I go rigid, watching them in fear. I back up slowly, then turn and run. Or, at least, I try to. Niall grabs my wrist, making me stop. "Don't go. Please." I just look at him fearfully, and he lets my wrist go, letting me run away. I run over to another part of the woods, going over to a tree and playing a sad song on my iPod, start to cry. I lean my head back and cry myself to sleep.
