Meet Me in the Meadow

Dreams are like fireflies. You have to catch them in order to see the beauty, but once they stop lighting up, they die. That sums up my life. An eighteen year old girl, who sits alone everyday in the same spot wondering what to do with her life. If anyone wants to save me from ending it, tell them to meet me in the meadow. I bet you no one will show up.
*One Direction Story* Please read! :) xxx

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13. Sticks And Stones

I walk through the dead cold night, the rain drops freezing in my hair. I could see my breath in the air. I kept walking until I arrived at my destination. My father's house. I know it is the worst place to turn to, but I have no choice. I opened the door slowly and slipped in. All of the lights were on, and there was my father. He was drinking a beer, while watching his annual wrestling tournaments. He snapped his head in my direction, a evil smirk laying flat across his face.

 "Well, well well, look who we have here!" He chuckled, getting up off the couch.

 I backed up slowly, him coming closer to me until my back hit the wall. His breath smelling of beer lingering in my nose. I try to hold my breath. No use. He slaps me dead across the face, leaving a huge red mark on my frozen cheek. 

 "Where has the tramp been?" He stuttered, the beer taking over him.

 "I was out." I muttered.

 "For the whole fucking night?" He yells, kicking me in the stomach.

 I slide to the floor, holding in my tears.

 "What? Were you out having sex with guys on the streets? That's the only way you will get guys to like you anyways!" He snaps at me.

 "I was with a friend.." I whisper.

 "Friend? Oh like I am supposed to believe that! You don't have friends! You are a fucking loner! No one would ever dare to be friends with you!" He screams at me, kicking me in the head several times, until blood was pouring from my nose.

 He pulled a pocket knife from his pocket, which caused me to scream. He covered my mouth, and smirked evilly.

 "This will teach you not to leave during the night!" He says.

 He cuts me right down my thigh, me squealing in pain. He just laughs, and goes over to the couch and back to his normal routine.

 I try to get up, but I can't. The blood is pouring from my leg, and so I take a wad of paper toweling and press it to the wound. I hobble up the stairs and into my room. I take out my phone. Three text messages and four missed calls. All from Harry.

 "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."

 "Please answer! I am so sorry!"

 "Amelia....please call me."

 I ignored every message and lied down on my bed. I took a towel from my bathroom and duct taped it to my leg. I pulled the covers over my head.

 People say that "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." I believe they both hurt us. They both drive us to complete, utter insanity.

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