Kidnapping Rachel

Mute by choice, seems weird, right? In the world of Rachel Vahn things are complicated, and broken. She's sick, and untreated. She's abused by her father. Her mom has been dead for years, and now Rachel has had enough. Things take a turn for weird when Rachel is kidnapped by the world's biggest heartthrobs, One Direction.


5. Chapter 5


I wake up to a throbbing pain in my head and abdomen. My eyes flutter open to four hardly-farmiliar faces. I cower back in fear, I didn't want anymore beatings. I made a mistake, I had to pay for it. I deserved it all, I was bad, but that doesn't mean I enjoy this treatment.

"You alright, love?" asked the blonde one, who I think went by the name of Niall.

I nodded my head 'yes' but realized I probably shouldn't have, the pain in my head grew. I held my hand on my head to try and sooth it. The boys started to back away as I slowly got off of the couch. I may be stupid, but my father's house was furnished. I then proceeded to sit on the floor, scum doesn't belong on the couch. Scum doesn't deserve a bed, they deserve a blanket on the floor. I am scum, so I don't belong on the couch.

The boys gave me odd looks as i sat cross legged on the wooden floor. I ached all over, I stared at my arms, the scars had mixed causes. Some from a blade I found in the ensuite of my father's bedroom when I was cleaning it, others from my father burning me with the poker for the fireplace. Others come from knives my father would take to me, unkindly letting blood seep from my skin, and screams race from my throat.

"How'd you get those?" A warm voice asks, stumbling over an Irish accent.

I only shrugged, I wasn't going to waste my words, because they were forgotten, and useless.

"We're sorry about Harry, he's had a hard day." The same voice says awkwardly.

I froze, I forgot about the fifth one. I looked around, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw he wasn't here.

"What's your name, love?" says another boy, who I think was named Liam.

I turned my attention back to my arms and ignored the question. I didn't know how to spell, or read for that matter, so I couldn't comunicate with them unless I spoke. I refused to speak to these people, they're not trust worthy, they frightened me.

I was ripped out of my thoughts when a rough hand grabbed my shoulder, it was the boy with the cinnoman role on top of his head. Zayn, I think.

"Speak to us, we're not the bad guys!" He shouted in anger, his eyes grew cold, and hard.

I tried to back away, but his hand was firm on my shoulder, he only gripped tighter. I only became more frightened as he stood their. He smirked, and grabbed me by the arm roughly. I counted the best I could, five more bruises will be there by the end of today. They would add to my purple sleeve, giving me battle marks. But I deserved this, I was a bad girl. 

The boy dragged me up the stares, and into a room at the end of the hall. I looked at him with fear-filled eyes. He just laughed cruelly. He threw me onto the bed and started to hit me, he was punishing me. He left a ring on my neck, depriving me of much needed air. As he took his hand from my neck, he lift me up gruffly by my shoulders. He threw me against the wall, A seering pain dancing down my neck.

I looked up at him as he kicked me, tears blurring my vision. Why couldn't I just scream? Why couldn't I tell him to stop? I am broken enough without him. He kicked me again, this time, in the head.

As my vision blurred, and darkened, he spit on me, throwing a foulty at me.

"That's what you get." He spat. 

And then, he disappeared, along with the rest of this cruel world.  

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