broken bones // yungblud

Oh No

{A/N - Long chapter ahead guys! TW!!!! Mentions of abuse and murder and bodily harm)
I sit bolt upright in the bed due to hearing a loud crash downstairs, it almost sounds like glass smashing? I put it down to someone probably breaking a glass downstairs and lay back down and try to drift off back to sleep... yet to no avail. You know that feeling in the pit of your stomach that you used to get as a kid when you knew you were about to get told off by a parent or someone? Yeah I've got that. Ive got it bad. Instead of my body being consumed by sleep its being consumed by that overwhelming feeling that something is going to happen, I keep trying to reassure myself that its nothing and I should just go back to sleep, I mean there's really nothing that could happen if you think about it? Dom's a celebrity living in a mansion, there should be hundreds upon thousands of safety measures and locks and sensors that surround this place so everyone inside stays safe from the outside but- but what if its malfunctioned? What if there's been a power cut and they've failed? I mean I haven't seen or heard any electronical items or things make a sound in the.... 5 minutes I've been awake. No no Zara stop thinking like this! It's nothing! Right?

Just as I've started to calm myself down and reassure myself nothing wrong I hear what should be a baseball bat by the sounds of it swing and make the lock and door handle come flying off the door in front of the end of the bed I'm laying in. I let out a quick yelp as I was starting to drift off into sleep, I dart my eyes towards the door as I scan the long tall body standing at the door.  My throat suddenly becomes dry as all the memories come flooding back to me, the bat... the tatty old clothes... the long scar stretching from the right eyebrow down to the jawline from a slashing attack back in 2016.... Down at the end of the once peaceful and calming room is no other than Phloyd.

I attempt to let out a long ear piercing scream to try alert someone in the house yet nothing comes out. Not only because my throat is dryer than the Sahara but for some reason my voice box isn't working... I take one of my hands and press into my throat. It's... its just empty. But really at the moment making a long speech and using my voice box isn't really my biggest worry at the moment, though my abusive angry bat-welding psycho probably now ex boyfriend is DEFINITELY the biggest worry right now. As he walks up and up, closer and closer towards me I slowly get less and less able up until the point where I can move none of my body, I'm basically paralysed. Once he reaches my side I dart my to my right and lock them onto his face. Worried what he does next I cant help but have the tears run down my face and seep into the fluffy duvet that lays partially at my side. I feel the hot smelly breath of Phloyds hit my face

"Why'd you run away Zara? Huh? Aww cat got your tongue? Too busy crying? Well that's sad that the oh so famous YUNGBLUD boy hasn't come to save you has he? Your Prince Charming has run away hasn't he princess. Well that's too bad". I can't reply so in response the tears just fall faster and more down my face and onto the duvet. "As your not busy right now how about I keep you busy huh?'
He whips his hand around from my cheek and into his back pocket. If there's hundreds of stuff that I hate about Phloyd, the worst or one of the worst definitely is how disgusting and grimy his hands always are, there's constantly black dirt under his finger nails and cuts on his palm and crusty old dried blood seeped into his skin.. but that's the thing about Phloyd, you could never tell if the blood was his or mine or a random stranger that he thought looked at him weirdly on the street. After reaching to his pocket he grabs a pocket knife. Ahh Phloyd's signature pocket knife, I couldn't tell you how many times I've been threatened with or hurt with the small blue hand-held knife. Countless if I had to put a number on it.

As his thumb reaches and flicks the knife open as the blade flies into the air and ends with a sharp click, signifying that the pocket knife was ready and waiting for usage. He stares at the object in his hand which is glistening in the moonlight due to the blinds being disrupted in his entering and cracking open and letting the moon's glow flood into the room. He gives me a little smirk and he pulls the blade to my throat. I squeeze my eyes shut as that's really the only body part I CAN move... My breathing gets more irregular due to the sheer amount of unnecessary adrenaline surging through my body.. I dare to inhale and just as I do, he pushes the blade into my throat and drags it across the lines of my neck.. I gain the quick chance of finally screaming and let out possibly the biggest scream I've ever done. But quicker than you can blink he's got his hand over my mouth and even quicker than that the blood quickly floods out of my neck, litres upon litres of my sticky red blood streams out of the gaping hole in my neck and for the last time before he escapes he reaches down and plunges the knife into my chest. My life flashes before my eyes... I see memories I don't even remember making, holidays, birthdays, vacations, the day with my grandparents the day before they passed away in the car crash.

Pictures of my childhood are shown to me like a movie, the movie of my life, the movie of my childhood... back when my life was good.

And with that I'm gone. Ive passed away

But- But why can I hear someone screaming my name?

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Hey guys! Wow that was long... if you've read all that then your a real trooper! Comment here if you read all of that and I'll drop you a follow! Have an amazing day guys! Xoxo Lauren