[when you're born
in a burning house
you think the whole world
is on fire,but it isn't.]
_________________________________
The cellar door creaked as it was pushed open.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking up the stairs. I could only make out the shadow-y outline of James. He was better in that lighting. Better when I couldn't see his face and his eyes. Better when he was far away, at the top of the stairs.
"You awake?" his voice rang though the cellar.
"Yeah," I said quietly. I pulled my knees up to my chest. "Can I please have something to eat?"
"Come on up here," James said. He left the basement door open and backed out, into where I knew the kitchen was.
I pushed myself up off of the thin, dirty mattress. It was better than the ground. I was dizzy as I walked. I wondered if it was from being malnourished, dehydrated, or drugged? I used the railing to drag myself up the stairs.
The light in the kitchen was bright. It must have been morning, as I could see the sun through the east facing windows. James was sitting at the table, reading the news paper how he did every morning. There was a bottle of scotch next to him, like every morning.
"Go ahead and get yourself some cereal or something, and then take a shower. We're going out."
I nodded and moved numbly to get myself a bowl of cereal. I ate it rabidly, as any 13 year old who was being starved would have. I cleaned my dishes and put them back in the cabinet, before going to the bathroom.
There, I found fresh clothes waiting for me.
I showered quickly, detangling my hair the best I could with no shampoo or conditioner. I covered my mouth when it came time to run water over my back. It was raw with lashes from the night before. I looked down, not surprised to see blood rinsing down the drain.
-
I didn't know where James brought me. I'd never been there before. As I looked around, though, I started to connect the dots as to why. James had a lot of friends.
My predicament? I was tied to the headboard in the guest bedroom and none of the men in the house were the right kind of men to save me.
I shook my head, tiredly, when the fourth man walked into the room. He looked at my body like he was allowed to. I wanted to hide.
There was no where for me to hide.
He sat down next to me, first, and pulled the gag down from around my mouth.
"Please don't," I mumbled. He grabbed my chin and turned my head to look up at him. "Don't touch me," I mumbled, shaking my head to get his hand off of me.
His hand snapped around my throat. I gasped at the pressure and tried to reach for his hands to pry them off. My own hands were restrained, and the attempt I made was futile.
"Get off me!"
"No! Stop, get off!"
"No!"
"Please..."
"Princess!"
I startled awake. Zayn Malik was standing above me. He was gripping my wrists and holding them against his chest. Through the dim light, I made out the terror on his face.
YOU ARE READING
𝘾𝙍𝘼𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐 ↣ 𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉
Fanfiction[this is the story of how i learned to live. but don't worry! it's kind of a fun one.] - ❝No, Niall, you don't get it! Our mom left me at a fire station and caught the next flight back to you. You grew up with a family, you got baby pictures and war...