I watch as my father strikes my mum again, yelling at her. I peer from around the corner, neither of them noticing my presense. Does Doniya know this is happening? That our father is a monster?
Suddenly, the scene changes. I'm no longer in my childhood home, in Bradford. I'm sitting in my apartment, my mind lagging, as I wait for Sydney to walk through the doors.
She walks into my apartment, with a smile on her beautiful face. I scowl at her, the alcohol affecting my brain in the worst way possible. Her face contorts into a look of confusion and sympathy.
"Zayn, what's wrong?" she asks, in her sweet, calming voice.
"Nothing's wrong," I hiss, gripping her wrists tightly. A grin spreads across my face.
"Something is wrong. I can tell," she frowns, her thin, dark eyebrows knitting together.
"Nothing is wrong. You're just stupid."
"Zayn..."
"You make me so angry," I hiss, pushing her to the ground with so much force.
"Zayn, you're being like- like my-"
"Father?" I laugh. "Of course I am. He's right. You're stupid, worthless. All you've got going for you is a pretty face."
"You don't mean that." Her bottom lip quivers, as her blue eyes fill with tears.
"I do mean that."
I bring my hand back to slap her cheek. More tears fill her eyes, as her cheek turns a bright firetruck red.
"I thought I taught you to be stronger than that, babe," I chuckle.
I strike her side with my foot, another laugh falling from my lips.
"Zayn, why are you doing this?" she whimpers, covering her face with her hands.
"Look at you. Can't you guess?"
"What did I do?"
"More like what didn't you do. I was always there to run around to your every last whim. You cried and cried to me. Made me stand up for you, protect you."
"I didn't make you do anything, Zayn. I thought you wanted to be with me and do those things."
"You thought wrong."
"If you would've told-"
"You wouldn't of cared. You're so selfish." I grip her wrists again, dragging her to her feet.
I continue to deliver blows to her small body, laughing at each one. I can tell that every word I say cuts her deeper. Tears fall down her face, bringing her mascara with it.
My eyes fly open, a lump in my throat. What the fuck was that? It was like I was the monster. I was the one hurting people who I love.
This last week has just been off. With my bike breaking, Sydney asking me about boxing, walking in on her father abusing her mother. It's all just wrong. The boxing one has hit me the hardest. I box to forget about why I started. The issues I had with my dad. Those memories of him hovering over my mum, slurring drunk, hurtful words at her.
I screw my eyes shut, trying to forget-- hoping to forget those memories. I try to erase Sydney's face out of it. Her beautiful, ocean coloured eyes red with tears. The purple bruises I left on her body.
I finally give up on that, grabbing my phone and going down to my kitchen. I fill a glass of water for myself, taking a sip. I turn on my phone, seeing the lockscreen I had set. It's a picture of Sydney, from the night we kissed for the first time. It sounds stupid and creepy, but it's a pictue of her sleeping. She had just fallen asleep, her eyes calmly closed, and a faint smile on her face. It was actually a selfie, with her on my chest, but I cropped myself out of it.
I open my phone, finding my contacts. I find Sydney, whose name in my phone is 'sydney the angel.' I press call, putting the phone to my ear. At the fourth ring, I start to doubt that she'll answer.
"Hello?" her sweet voice bursts through the speaker. Her voice is hoarse and lower than normal, like it always is when she wakes up.
"Babe," I smile, my fingers tapping the counter.
"Zayn, why are you calling at half three?" she groans.
"I had a nightmare."
"Really, Zayn? You had to wake me up?"
"Really, Sydney. Can you please come over? I can't sleep."
"Yeah, okay, I'll be there in fifteen."
"Thanks, beautiful."
"Of course, Zayn. See you soon."
"I'll leave the door open for you."
She ends the call. I walk to the door, unlocking it, before sitting at my small dinner table. I pull out a cigarette from the pack resting on the table. I light one, hoping that it will help to de-stress me before Sydney gets here. By the time Sydney finally opens the door, I've smoked four and a half cigarettes. I haven't done that in years.
"Hey," she smiles, her eyes half closed.
"Thanks for coming over," I sigh, pulling her into my chest. She secures her arms around my neck.
As soon as I take in her floral scent, my whole body relaxes. I'm glad to know that she really isn't hurt.
"No problem," she shrugs, trying to brush off her sleepiness.
"I shoudn't have made you come. You're like half asleep. That's just a bad idea waiting to happen."
"It's fine, Zayn. Can we just go to sleep?"
I nod, as she throws her bag to the ground. I scoop her into my arms, making a small giggle escape her plump, pink lips. I can't help but smile at her cute, half asleep state.
I lay Sydney on my bed, before climbing into my side. I pull her into my bare chest. She smiles, with her eyes closed, as she wraps her arms around me.
"Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite," Sydney sighs, resting her head on my chest.
I press a kiss to her forehead. "Night, angel. See you on the flip side."
By the time I finish saying my sentence, laboured breaths are falling from her lips. I lift up the material of her shirt- one of mine, actually-, exposing the bruise made by her father. My fingers trace over the purple-yellow mark on her side. Her chest rises and falls in sync with mine, as she relaxes me, and lets me fall asleep again.
. . . . .
it fit
edited bc I AM ON THE BALL TODAY HYFR
PIC: IKAY OKAY ZAYN NEEDS TO STOP HE LOOKS SO BEAUTIFUL AND PASSIONATE I WANT TO DIE
as always; vote, comment, and fan pls
im trying to post everyday so i can get on with other ffs im almost done writing the epilogue of this ahhhhhh its like, a lot of chapters away but whatever
lotsa love, bella x
YOU ARE READING
safety// z.malik
Fanfiction«you saved me. thank you.» in which the two broken people fall in love, and maybe, just maybe, mend each other ........... characters are not affiliated with their real life personality. this work is purely fiction.
