A Reason To Breathe *Harry Styles love story*

Chloe was just a small town girl from Carthage, Missouri, but her life isn't a normal one...or a happy one. What happens when a famous singer gives her a reason to breathe?


8. Not Every Story Has A Happy Ending

 We finally got to the hotel room. Harry opened the door and we walked in silently. I heard the boys' laughter as we neared the living room. We stopped at the entrance to the living area of their hotel room. Niall glanced over in our direction and immediately stopped his adorable laughter. The other boys noticed and their laughter died down. They all looked to where Niall was staring and they looked at me. A deadly silence filled the room. Liam was the first to say something.


"Why is there blood on your face?" I teared up, thinking of my dad's hatred for me, yet I don't know why.


I cleared my throat, desperately trying not to cry. "I'll explain soon," I mumbled. "Can we put these where I'll be sleeping?" I quietly asked Harry.


He numbly nodded and started walking towards the bedrooms. "You'll sleep in the bed with me," he muttered protectively for some reason. He opened a door on the left side of the hallway to expose a beautiful bedroom that matched the living room. He set the suitcases down near the end of the bed on the right side, so I put my duffel bag next to them. "Why don't you take off your jacket?" Harry asked me, slipping off his shoes.


"I don't think that's a good idea..." I replied softly, taking off my shoes as well.


"Why?" he asked me with a puzzled look.


"I said there was a lot of blood..." He looked at me with this heartbroken, fearful look as I trailed off.


"It's ok. Just take off your jacket." I nodded silently. I took off my jacket and laid it on top of my suitcases. "I thought you said there was blood?" he asked. I turned around and gave him a view of my back. He gasped. I then felt his soft, warm hand grasp my small one and turn me towards him. I saw that he had tears dripping down his face, which made me tear up, as I do every time I see someone upset. I reached up and gently wiped away his tears with the pad of my thumb on the hand he wasn't holding.


"Don't cry," I murmured.


"Come on," Harry said as he looked at me with a protective look shining in his beautiful eyes.


*in the living room*


I sat on Harry's lap again, the boys looking afraid as they saw my back. I took Harry's hand in mine, as I was afraid to say it. He squeezed my hand comfortingly. I squeezed back and took a deep breath.


"Well, when I was around the age of 13, my mom got in a car wreck with a drunk driver. She died instantly, well that's what the doctors said...


"Umm, to say the least, my dad didn't take the accident...what's the word? Lightly, you could say. He started to...drink a lot. He became different. He started yelling at me for every little thing and so on.


"When I came home from school late one day, I knew his condition was worse than I thought. He was very, VERY drunk that day, and me coming home late just made everything worse. He yelled at me and sent me to my room. I thought it was over, but it definitely wasn't." I chuckled darkly. "He came up to my room about 10 minutes later and took all of my instruments, and I had a LOT of instruments. I had 12 and he took them all, slowly but surely emptying my room of them. He took every last one of them. I finally followed him to where he was, and it was the backyard...he burned all my instruments. The one thing I had to live for, my whole life...burned into ashes, because I got home late.


"That wasn't everything though, although watching my instruments burn hurt me the worst that day...he hit me for the first time that day." I felt Harry tense up beneath me. "The first time he ever laid a hand on me, to hurt me.


"Over time, it got worse. The beatings got longer and hurt more each time. I almost killed myself too many times to count, but I couldn't just let go of my dream. I just want to be a band director, and I plan on becoming one. That kept me going, and still does. Even through my dads abuse and the bullying at school, I kept on breathing, although I never had a good reason to." I finally finished. I looked around the room at the boys and soon started to silently sob. I then shoved my face onto Harry's chest, and cried until I soon fell asleep.

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