Holding On

Rose, the word ponders around my crammed mind and all it ever picks out is the color red. Red, the color of love, anger, blood. My name is inexplainable. My life, was inexplainable, until I met him.


11. Forever Feeling Guilty

I glanced at Louis and then to my father who's fists were beginning to rise.

"I said, GIVE ME HER!" Just then his white knuckles swung at Louis. I screamed Louis' name, snapping him out of whatever trance he was partaking in.

He stepped back, missing what could have been a fatal blow.

Just then, Liam came bolting down the hallway.

"Who the hell are you?" He stood upright in between Louis and my father.

"I WANT MY DAUGHTER BACK NOW!" The harsh tone caused Liam to flinch.

A sudden wave of guilt ran over me. This was all my fault, everything. Louis would have never gotten hurt if I didn't meet him.

I had to go back to my father.

"I-I'll go with you!" I yelled, my voice cracking. My father smirked at me and pushed passed Louis and Liam and grabbed my shoulders.

"You don't know how much trouble you've caused, young lady." His eyes pierced into mine as his famous death stare smeared across his face.

Louis placed his hand firmly on my fathers bulky shoulder, spinning him around to face him.

"Get your ass out now, you're not even supposed to fucking be here." Louis screamed at my dad, his face filling with anger.

"Don't tell me what to do you fucking dipshit waste of a man!" Suddenly, it was like a bomb exploded in Lou's chest, because he pushed me gently off of my father, and slammed him against the white hallway walls.

"You're the one to talk! WHAT TYPE OF FUCKING MAN HITS A WOMAN? YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" Louis slapped my father, branding the same red mark I received, onto his cheek.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Louis then shoved my father off him. My dad directed his view towards me, and ran up to me.

"Fine!" My father screamed while grabbing my wrist forcefully. He shoved me out the door without warning. I screamed as my fragile frame collapsed down the cement stairs.

I heard footsteps stomp before me, while purple shellac painted fists were thrown at my father. Several grunts escaped from him before he too collapsed down towards the pavement to greet me.

The person kneeled down to my level, revealing a beautiful female runner. Her left iPod headphone still jammed into her ear.
Her brown, wavy strands were entwined in an elastic band, fixing them into a ponytail. She was wearing neon yellow running shoes, with a grass green windbreaker.

Harry appeared in the doorway, and stopped in his tracks.

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