Since I deleted 14 Dip Dyed chapters, from the chapter Skin and on, I decided to post them in case someone decides they want to read them. I also deleted the like two chapters from the sequel, Dyed, so I'll post them too :) My decision wasn't appreciated by some people -to end Dip Dyed- so if you aren't okay with it, just leave.

Three things happened simultaneously: the beer bottle dropped from his hand and shattered on the floor, my father let out a deep, throaty chuckle, and his hand had struck me across the face. I put my hand on the spot he had just hit and felt the heat and sting of the impact. I looked down at the broken beer bottle, still holding my hand on my cheek, and I felt a heavy boot kick into my waist. I fought back tears and stayed silent. After a few moments, I heard the footsteps retreating and the sound of a door slamming shut. When I was sure he was gone, I looked away from the broken bottle, and tears welled up in my eyes. I never showed my weaknesses to my father, happiness was the last thing I wanted to give him. After a few minutes, I pulled myself off the floor and slowly approached my dresser, cautiously opening the top drawer and moving some socks out of the way. I pulled out a long blade, and with trembling hands, slid it across my wrist, adding to the collection of scars. I began to quietly sing a familiar tune that seemed to comfort me in times like this: “Heart beats harder, time escapes me, trembling hands touch skin, it makes it harder, and the tears stream down my face. If we could only have this life for one more day, if we could only turn back time…” My voice trailed off and I drifted to sleep.

Everything is dip dyed isn't it? Sometimes most of it is happy, and some times most of it is sad. -I WAS 12 DON'T READ-

Fifteen years. The number of normal every-day life. One day. The number of time when my life suddenly took a 180. 8000. The number of miles I was taken away from my home. Two. The number of parents I will never see again, Two weeks. The number of weeks I lived with kidnappers, rapists, and murderers. Three times. The number of times I lost my innocence to three different men. Four months. The number of months I lived a semi-normal but hectic life with practically strangers. Two. The number of children I carried Two. The number of times I was kidnapped. One week. The number of weeks I was held hostage. Thirty. The number of times I probably passed out or fainted. One hundred plus. The number of times I cried and felt sorry for myself. Six months. The number of months I waited until I got to see my children. Thirty seconds. The number of seconds it took before my life fully crumbled before my very eyes. A moment. How long it took for it all to start over again. Save Them, Please? *Sequel to 'Help Me, Please?*

I am only fifteen...how could this happen to me? I am nerdy-straight 4.0 GPA, never smoked, never done drugs, never had a boyfriend, never had sex, never tasted alcohol, so why did he have to kidnap me? And how does One Direction fit into this mess?