I Need Someone Like You

Scarlet Kamik is not an average girl. She grew up in a bad neighborhood. Her mother has passed by a shooting on her block while her mom took her to the park. After that, everything has changed. her father started to blame Scarlet for everything. Her mothers passing, her father (Rob) losing his job, and loosing almost everything in the house in a stove fire that her father caused. Her father has forced her to steal food and alcohol from stores. Her father abuses her every day. She cant escape. Or can she? Who would she meet if she did? How would she fend for herself? Read and Find out!


1. It Hurts So Much

Scarlet's P.O.V


"SCARLET!! GET YOUR ASS IN THE LIVING ROOM!!" I heard my father scream. I started to rush into the living room as fast as I could trying not to step on any broken glass or nails. I have before, and god did it hurt but my father still forced me to do his dirty work.

I stood in the living room with my head down holding one arm with my right hand trying to cover up the pain he had giving me in my left arm. "Yes?" I said quietly.

"Go get me a six pack." he said with his teeth clenched as if I was too stupid to understand what he wanted before I answered him. 

"I'm sorry." I replied with fear in my voice. "I'm going to need some mone-" 

"JUST GO GET IT YOU SLUT!!!" he cut me off and I jumped back in my place and rushed out of the door grabbing my dirty red Toms and slipped them on outside before he could hurt me again. I stood up from the concrete steps and took and deep breath. I walked quickly down the street with my head hung low so.

I looked at the sign about the store that said 'Mom's and Dad's Food Market'. I straightened out my slightly ripped and dirty sweater that covered up most of the scars, bruising and burns on my arms and fixed my wavy, hazelnut hair that went down to the middle of my lower back and walked in while putting on a fake and slight smile that I soon whipped off my face. I walked to the back of the store to the coolers and quickly took apart the six pack and shoved it into my sweater trying not to be noticed. I stood up and then went into the detergent isle pretending to look for something and said "oh damn you guys don't have it" and then walked out but bumping into someone and a couple beers fell out of my sweater. 

"Oh. I'm so sorry lo-" but then he stopped and noticed the beers but I quickly picked up the beers, put them into my sweater and got off the ground and started to walk away with my head down. I noticed a slight pull on my arm and I winced in pain.

"Hey!" he raised his voice.

I looked up at him while trying to hold the beers in my sweater. He had short blonde hair with brown roots and an even skin tone. He looked around 19 years old, one year older than me. He loosed his grip a bit as I think he noticed me in pain. 

I took the chance to pull away and run as fast as I could. I could faintly hear footsteps running after me. I have almost reached my hell hole I call home as I tripped and the boy fell on top of me. 

I screamed from pain in my stomach and he got off of me and held my sweater. The beers fell from my sweater and he grabbed me and put me over his shoulder walking towards the store. I was squirming trying to break free but I was too weak compared to his strong arms. He put me down and pushed me into the store followed by four other boys. I had gotta scared.

"Hold her Harry." he said with disappointment in his voice.

"Why? Who is she Niall?" The curly haired one said, addressed by 'Harry'. He grabbed my both of my arms and I let out a whimper.

The Blonde one, a.k.a 'Niall', went to the cashier and started talking. Before I knew, the store owner started asking me questions and they called my father. Moments after that he showed up with the boy still holding me. My father was acting pretty calm and normal and paid the clerk for the stolen beers and bought a six pack for himself. He boy had let me go and I rubbed my arms but shortly after than my father had took my arms and he pretty much dragged me out the door of the store with the six pack in the other hand. The boys had went into a big bus. When my father has went down the street a bit more he threw me to the ground.

"AHHHH" I screamed in pain and tried to get up but my father had kicked my stomach really hard which made me spit up some blood.

"OH SHUT UP YOU BITCH!!! YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT!! EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOUR MOTHER'S DEATH, THE HOUSE ALMOST IN COMPLETE ASHES AND ME LOSING MY FUCKING JOB!! ITS ALL YOUR FAULT!!!" he yelled at me with so much anger, but he was right, I deserved to be punished. Most kids lessons are 'if you do something wrong, you say sorry.' I grew up with 'If you do something wrong, you get punished.' but I'm used to it.

"I-I-I'm s-s-sor-r-y" is all I could say.

He continued to kick me repeatedly. He took one of the beers, opened it, took a small sip and poured the rest on me and threw the can at my head. He left me on the concrete choking on my own blood and slowly the darkness had been getting closer and closer. I couldn't see anything and the last thing I heard was a 'oh my god' and shuffling of feet.

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