Held Captive (Harry Styles)

Prologue

"I will leave you, whether you like it or not!" My mother screams at my father. He'd always come home drunk and angry, which has lead me to scream in pain every night because of his tortures. He would always shout at me, scream at me like it was my fault why mum left him with another man. He would always hurt me. Always.

"You're leaving me with your affair, Margaret?" Father asks her as if he was taunting her. He grabs my mother's hair and pulls it aggresively, making her wince and shout in pain. "Haven't you forgotten that you're mine? And that shit of a daughter is mine? Huh? You are not going anywhere!" He yelled, throwing her body onto the floor like she weighs nothing but a tin can.

The noise has never stopped once. It was always there, always around, always everywhere. I open my door slightly to get a better view to their argument. Mother told me to stay inside, but I need to know what she'd say to father. I need to know if she'd win the argument.

"You're sick," Mum croaked, her tears streaming down her face as she looked up to my father. "You're a sick bastard, and you will never keep us! We are going to leave you, and you are going to pay for what you did to my daughter!" She screams. "You're going to jail! You're going to rot in jail!" She continues to scream at him. Father's eyes suddenly became wild, full of rage and anger as he hears mother's screams. It frightened me.

She continued to say things, making him seem that he couldn't handle the noise anymore. I see him take something out of his pocket, and my eyes widened to witness a gun in his hand. He pulls the trigger and shoots my mother in the forehead five times in front of me. His eyes not showing even one hint of regret or fear. He killed my mother.

I blink.

The world shatters beneath me.

My mother is dead because of my father.

Father murdered her.

Father.

Father has shot her five times in the forehead. Father has shot her. Father has killed my mother.

My vision became blurry as the tears form in my eyes. My hand was covering my lips to prevent myself from screaming. My chest was aching and it's rising and falling so quickly I'm surprised that I could still breathe.

His eyes darted to my direction, looking at me as if he would kill me as well. He puts the gun back to his pocket, and grabs my mother's feet.

"You, get rid of this bloody mess or I'll do the same to you." He threatens as he pulled my mother's lifeless body away from the living room. The wooden floor was covered with blood. My mother's blood.

I clench my trembling hands as I walked up to the kitchen to get a sponge and a bucket of water. This was not supposed to happen. It's all my fault. Father was right. It's all my fault. This was not supposed to happen. Father was right. Father was right.

My knees break down, and I let the tears fall to the floor as I began sobbing. I take the sponge and dip it to the water, squeezing it before wiping the sponge on the floor where the blood of my mother lies.

My dress was covered in blood. My fingernails embraced the red liquid. My eyes were still raining.

As I was wiping the blood away, I overheard my father's voice as he was talking to the phone, saying, "I got rid of her," then a pause. "just do me a favour and meet me up at the club. I need money and this is the only way I could earn shit." He said. A shorter pause. "She's thirteen years old," He said, making my actions stop and listen more. Was he talking about. . . me? "I don't give a fuck if she's too young. Just meet me at the club, and I'll bring her in. Make sure I get the fifty grand after tonight." He said. I count seven seconds, and he finally speaks again, haunting me with his choice of words.

"Yes, she's held captive, and she will be for the rest of her life."