Imagine For Girl in the mask

***Sorry it took so long to get this done. It took me a long time to write your ideas in my notebook. But, I've gotten most of it done now, and here goes nothing.***


1. Imagine for Girl in the mask

"Wake up, now!" I hear my father's voice from outside my bedroom door. When I dont respond, he mumbles underneath is breath about how I'm a  'worthless piece of scum.' I still lie there, hoping he'll go away, hoping that he'll go do something else, but never. He never does. There's just no end to his psychotic behaiviour.

"When I say now, I mean right now!" He yells, bursting through the door, grabbing my by my long black ponytail, and pulling me off my bed. I bite back the tears and stand up, my gaze meeting his for a second. Why does he hate me so much? Why does he wish to hurt me so badly? As soon as I'm on my feet and stable, he kicks my shins, which makes my head hit the ground with a loud 'thwack!' noise. I yelped as I felt his foot make contact with my ribs. He only snickers, watching me writhe on the floor in pain. He kicks me one more time before snickering again and leaving. I feel hot salty tears brush down my face as I walk out of my room and down the steps with my now-shaky legs.

When I get down to the living room, it seems safe until he comes around the corner from the kitchen, his height towering over me. Once he gets over to me, I wince as he grabs onto my arm. He holds my arm so hard that I know there will be marks from it.  I saw what his plans were, his cigarette in hand, and I squirmed about, knowing I wouldnt get free. The skin around where he held so tightly on my arm was turning pale, and losing feeling. I knew I was definetly not escaping, there was no use in trying. He took one last puff of the cigarette before putting it out on my numb skin, smoke flying, the smell of my burning flesh greeting my nose. I wince at the pain, and he holds it there until the smoke stops rising. He slaps me when I scream from the pain. I try to get away, his horrid deed done, but he still has his hand gripping my arm, his 'deathgrip'. I squirm and twist, yanking on my arm, but I cant get away and I'm forced to sit there, while his hand makes contact with my face again. I yelp and he finally lets me go. He shoves me away hard, and I drop to the floor.

"You're so worthless. Such a wimp. Why didnt you die instead of Car? Why did you survive instead?" My father yells at me, not really looking for an answer. He'd always done this to me. It might be the reason for the abuse. He blamed me for Carter's death... Carter and I had been in the same car accident, I almost did die, but I survived. My father thinks I'd killed him to make it out myself. There was no way. If anything, I would risk my life for Carter. I would give my life, gladly, to Car. Poor Car, he has no idea...

I needed to stop this, make my father stop. Set me free, help myself out now. It's been five years since Car's death, and five years since the endless abuse started. The torchering. The scars, the burns, the cuts, the scapes the wounds, bite marks, stab-wounds, and a bullet mark. I could've been dead, away from all this, but no, I had a will to survive. I had the stupid thought in my head that there would come a day, and a special saviour, that would come to my rescue. Thinking back on this, it's what I thought the first day. With the first hit. Right after the car accident. I let tears slide down my cheeks again as I remembered the whole day, after the accident, from the moment I stepped through the door.

"Finally getting back home. I lowered myself onto the couch, resting my broken arm. There was an accident the night before. I'd been hospitalised the whole night long, making sure I didnt see the light and die. As of now, I wish I would've, Car had died. And I'm not talking about an actual car, I'm talking about my brother, and my only brother. His name is Carter. Car is his nickname. We'd been in the same accident, him having the worst of it. He'd been in the backseat with me, and if you ask me, I should've died right alongside him. But, he'd always been a bit of a scardy-cat. Never watched scary movies or shows, couldnt handle it if someone popped out and scared him from the corner of a wall somewhere. Always on the lookout for monsters or danger. Dad's favourite child. He'd had a perfect relationship with dad, always being the first to come to mind in dad's head. I dont know why, but I was never jealous. I'd always been mum's little baby. She loved me too much to let anything happen. But, back to the matter of Car. He got scared senseless when we crashed. He had a heartattack on the spot. I remember shaking his lifeless body telling him it was okay, that it was all over. But he didnt answer. I tried mumma. Nothing. I was alone. I had to call daddy,  He responded instantly, asking me what was wrong. I was only 13 at the time, not really knowing about what had really happened.

"Dad, mum and Car wont answer me. We got into a car crash and now we're all alone out here. Help us!" I would yell into the phone. Dad would be yelling back, asking where we were, and what happened. I told him the whole story and he came here before ten minuted passed. He cried when he saw the wreck. I would try to comfort him, but he only pushed me away more. He told me it was my fault for not helping them. My fault becase mumma had hit her head and suffered. He said I needed to be punished. That I deserved to be in the same situation. I remember crying as his hand flew at me and he punched me in the face, sending me backwards. I hit my head on the car and he came over, my forehead in his hand, and bashed my head against the door to the car. He would hold my face next to Car's and tell me things like this:

"Look at this! You caused this! It's all your fault!"  He would say. I remember crying while the blood sifted down from my cut open head. I remember being in the hosital . I remember it all.

I sit on the couch, cradling my broken arm some more, and wait. Just wait. I know it would happen again. I know this was just the beginning.

I heard the car pull into the driveway." (End of flashback)

I stood back up after he hit me to the ground again.

"Here." He says, shoving money into my face, sending me scrambling to get it all off the floor. "Go get me some beer and soda. Sydney's coming over. Get them. Fast! And make sure it aint crappy." My dad finishes.

"Fine." I rudely say. It was the only word that came from my lips in a few days. Actually, since Car's death... My mum was another thing. I miss her like crazy. Missing the puzzle piece that completes me happened when I realise that they're gone. I feel a pang of sadness go through my body at a record pace. My dad snapping me back to reality by slapping my face. I held my hand to the slap mark. A five starred mark. I bit back more tears. He shoved me into the kitchen and out the door. Before the door was completely closed, though, he grabbed my arm and pulled it back inside. He swung the door on it, laughing when it hit my arm. It was right on my elbow, and I heard a slight crack as I wanted to fall to the ground. I screamed and frantically tried to escape, but he let another two slams of the door onto my arm and then let me go. I heard him laughing before the door shut, this time without me inside it. I held my arm to my chest, whimpering. Why? Why does he need to be like this? Such a loving and caring father, gone. Where did the good times go? Before Car died we were his world. More Car than me, but I never complained. He cared about me and that was good enough. I was glad to leave well enough alone until he started the abuse. Now, he thinks he has an excuse for all the phsical and mental child abuse. There's never a need to hurt any child. Or any body at all. It's a horrible thing, and everyone that does it deserves to rot in jail.

All these things he blamed me for, none were my fault. None. Will he ever stop the endless torchure? Not as long as he has me in his life. He hates me, wishes I would've died instead. Every morning he wakes up and asks me why I'm here anymore, why I hadnt died. Why he hadnt smashed my face against the car harder. Avoided jail by acting like it was the car accident that killed me. He was sick. Sometimes, I believe he only does this to get over his broken heart. I think it was his way of mourning and now it's a sick habit. Then a thought hit me: I could run away. I could get away from all this. When I was younger, I used to think the streets would be much worse than all the abuse, then again, the abuse was lighter back then. Then the abuse got to be more. More hurtful, more powerful. More damaging and even more scarring than before. The only thing that seems my father hasnt done yet is shoved his hand through my chest and ripped my heart out. Stabbing it to stop it's beating. My life. The damage and abuse he does now equals that and more. Doesnt physically hurt my heart, but it hurts me to think that he hates me so much that he'd want to hurt me. It stings. That he only wants to hurt me. My blood related father. Father. Running away sounds like a good choice. I know Car wouldnt want it to be this way, but he doesnt know. He doesnt know what father's been doing to me since his death. It's only right.

I walked down the street a bit, cradling my arm. A few cars passed before one slowly stopped, following me for a bit. I turned my heels, ready to bolt at any time, but before I could, the car stopped and honked. A blonde boy with his hair in messy curls sat there, smirking at me before seeing my arm. His look changed from joy to hurt and worry. I took one step towards the car as he rolled his window down. The music was blaring and he mouthed 'sorry' before turning it down all the way. So we could talk? I dont talk to strangers, well, anybody.

"Please dont run." The blonde boy said, his Irish accent giving his words a nice tilt to them. I took one more step towards the car, still a few feet away. My instincts told me to flee but they were wrong. His face twisted in concern, I didnt say a word.

"Do you need help? Your arm looks broken." He says, and I take one last step closer, meeting my allowing distance. Well, the distance I wanted to stay to stay away. He seemed nice and willing to help, but he was still a stranger. And, if anybody's taught me anything, which they've never because I dont school, it's that I shouldnt get too close to a stranger. I took two more hesitant steps towards him, closing the whole distance between us, and he smiles. His smile was perfect. A few teeth out of place, but flaws are perfect to me. He rolled his window down all the way now, and reached slowly for my arm. I jumped back as soon as his fingers brushed my arm, and he looked concerned.

"Please? I wont hurt you." He says, his blue-green eyes worry filled. I wont talk. I wont. No words come out of my mouth. Everybody hurts me, he's just like the rest. I kept a little distance, ready to run at the first sign of danger or threat. I let him have my arm, and I finally looked at it too. It was black and blue and a little blood was scattered occasionally here and there.

"Did you fall?" He asks, gaze locked on my arm.

"A-abuse." I say, not trusting to say another word. He gasps and lets my arm go lightly. I pull it to my chest again, wincing when I bend it the slightest bit.

"Someone abused you?"

"Dad." I say. It was enough for him to understand. His eyes filled with tears, but not a single one fell down his cheek. He didnt want me to see them, but I did.

"Your father. Does he, hurt you like this all the time?" He asks, his gaze intent. I nod. His eyes cloud again, but he shakes it away. "Why?" He asks me, and I shake my head. I really dont know the real reason. And, even if I did, I would never trust a stranger with my life-story. He opens his car door, he wasnt as tall as I thought, but he was pretty tall compared to me. I was only 5' 2". I take a step back when he closes his door up.

"I wont hurt you. I want to help. I want to take you to the hospital." He says, leading me to the car door on the passanger side. I let him, knowing my arm needs immediate care before father does anything else. He walks to the other side of the car, and hops inside it.

"I'm Niall." He says, holding out his hand. I dont say and word, and he smirks, taking his hand back, "Sorry."

"N-no, it's fine. I'm Laylay." I manage to say. It seemed to make him happy anyways.

"I like that." He says, pulling onto the road. His smile was so adorable, I wish he wouldnt of stopped smiling. I dont know how to react or how to speak to him. He's definetly the most kind person I've ever met in my life. Well, because everyone else I've met had abused me before. My arm throbbed with pain, which made me whimper to suppress the urge to cry out. I guess Niall heard me, for he pulled over to the side of the road again.  He looked at me, those pretty green-blue eyes bared down on me. He held a pain in his eyes while he looked at me.

"You okay? We're almost there, I promise." He says and I nod, returning my gaze to the window, staring out at the sights I've never been allowed to see for years now. Things have definetly changed a lot since I've been allowed out. There is no more park on 5th Avenue, no more little children playing on Score Street. Nothing. No more of the happy sights I used to look forward to. I guess eveybody's happiness disappeared with mine... Shortly, we pulled into the hospital, which had been renevated.

I winced as the doctor examined my arm. Niall shaking his leg nervously. Tapping his foot.

"Uh-huh. No broken bones, only a slight bruising in the tissue and surrounding muscles. It will be sore for a few days, then it will be just fine. Try to bend it as much as possible over the next three to four days." The doctor says, scratching his long pointed chin. His beady little eyes went from me to Niall.

"It's quite the wound. I see why you're so nervous. She your girlfriend?" The doctor asks Niall.


"Well, do you know how this happened?" The doctor asked. Niall looked over to me, as if asking for permission to tell my story. I nod, and he explains.

"You are a truly nice boyy, arent you sir? uh, do not bring her back to the person who did that." The doctor says, motioning towards my arm. I wondered where I would go. Home? I dont know where Niall would keep me. Maybe the orphanage would bring me in, or maybe I'd live by myself somewhere. I am 17, turning 18 in a few months.

"She'll stay with me. I wouldnt let anything happen to her. Never." I heard Niall's voice say. Inside, I was freaking out. A stranger's house. Me. On the outside, I acted cool, keeping my facial expression direct, natural. My insides screamed at me telling me not to go with this boy. Part of me wanted to trust him, and the other part wanted me wanted to run screaming into the woods. This was all so new to me. I've never had an experience like this before. Atleast since Car and Mum died. Father always told me to get over the wounds on my own. That my body would heal itself and that it never needed attention. I would always roll my eyes and go up to my room, only to be greeted by more abuse... I need to get away somewhere father doesnt expect, Niall's place would be perfect. I need to get away before he finds me and really kills me this time. For real. No jokes, no jabs, no cuts. A bullet to the head. This time, he wouldnt be drunk. He doesnt typically leave the house and I didnt get his beers. This time, the bullet wouldnt miss, he wouldnt fail. I would be gone, dead on the ground. And I know he'd get Niall next because he'd helped me. I need to trust Niall, he is my only hope now. My dad may be a physco, but he would find me. Track me down and get me to go back to the endless abuse. He can beat Sydney instead, see how she likes it. See if she likes what I go through daily. What she, herself, has done to me before. My dad held me back while she took her anger out on me, beating me senseless. While my dad laughed. I walked outside with Niall. A car pulled up to the side of Niall's car, I instantly realised who it was and bolted the other way. Niall was right on my heels.

"Who is it?" Niall says inbetween breaths. We ran in front of a moving car, having been hit by one before, it didnt faze me. They laid on the horn, giving my dad the signal to where I was.

"Dad" I say. I really dont want to engage in a real conversation with him. I've never been by a boy -or a girl- to talk to them. Niall grabbed my hand, and I'm sure I blushed brighter than a tomato. He and I darted in between two cars, losing my father somewhere. We ducked between the two cars, and huddles closer together. He blushed himself as he realised he still had my hand in his. He quickly let my hand go, which I wise he didnt, and we sat there catching our breath.

"I wish he'd just go to Hell already!" I heard my own voice blurt out. Niall looked as surprised as I did, and I slapped my hand against my mouth. I guess the anger just bubbled out. I didnt mean to speak. Whenever I'd speak out of turn at home, I would get a heck of a beating. I winced waiting for the blow to come, then I remembered it was Niall and I slowly lowered my hand from my face. He wouldnt hit me. I know he wouldnt.

"It's fine. I slip sometimes too. A lot, actually." He says, which makes me smile. "My dad says I'm too bad-mouthed to have a girlfriend ever."

"Yeah?" I ask, obviously hoping to be that lucky girl. So protected and cared about by Niall's loving nature. I knew it wasnt going to happen, but I let myself dream anyways.

"Yeah, I've been trying to look for someone to treat really, really well. Give her all my love. Undying love and respect and protection from anything. Most of all, someone who isnt used to it." He says, looking right into my eyes. I feel myself blush and I look away, nervously and embarrassed. I felt his hand underneath my chin, and he forced me to look at him in the eyes. His blue-green eyes lighting up with a tilt of happiness.

"I know we just met and all, but, I'd like that girl to be you. I'll treat you so well. I wouldnt let anyone hurt you ever. I would never hurt you, either." He says, and I turn away again. He lets me go, mumbling something about 'it was worth a shot. A shot in the dark.'. I felt so bad. I know I should've said yes. Who could give me a better life than Niall, who understands? And he puts up with my shyness and inaudibility. My ability to not speak very much.

"Yes." I say. Just one word, and he's happy again. His smile returns.

"I can?" He asks, referring to a date. I say nothing, just nod. Another smirk lit up his face.

"You know, you dont talk much. It doesnt matter. The thing about me is, you'll hear me before you see me. I'll talk your ear right off." He says. I put on my best fake-confusion look. I look around nervously, waiting for the moment where my retched father comes back and gets me. The moment I see him pop out from behind us and takes me away. I dont ever want to think of it happening. I finally get away, and now this. He finds me. Niall must've noticed my nervous scanning.

"Dont worry, you'll be fine. I'll beat the blood out of him if he ever comes near you. I would never let anyone hurt you." He says. I smile and he scoots closer to me, seeinfg the car owner come back. My heart did a 360. It was Sydney's car. Why me? I face-palmed in my head while mind talking some very not-nice words.

"Bret, over here. Stupid kids think hiding by my car will keep them hidden." She says and I know my dad is probably rushing over here right now. About to take me back again... No! Why, why, why, why me?! All the scars and cuts and bruises and marks my father caused me throb from the pain of knowing that I would be getting a heck of a beating tonight. I take Niall's hand again and we both run straight down the street. Darting through more cars, and then finally running down the street. Niall is yelling for a cop, and luckily, there is one down the street. We hurry over to him and tell him the whole thing.

"Boy, you dont talk much, do you kid?" The cop directed his question for me, but Niall answered it.

'She pretty much never speaks." Niall says, and the police-man smiles.

"She doesnt speak for herself, boy? I need her to confirm this story of yours before I can do anything about it." The cop says.

I nod, "It's true." I say, and the cop nods this time. Smiling. I never really talk much outside my head, never really been allowed to. Never went to school, I really didnt learn how to talk to specific people. I've not said twenty words to Niall and he still likes me.  Because he wants to give me a better life. As Niall explains about the rest, the cop allows us to hide in his car while Sydney and my father run by.

"So about our date, my house? We can have a movie night or something. Sound okay to you?" Niall asks me, and I nod.

"Perfect." I say, still not ready for a real conversation. Niall grabs my hand, and I let him, to show him how much I trust him. I completely trust him with my whole life now.

"If you dont want to, tell me. I know when to back off. All you need to do is say the word 'no'." Niall says, and I shake my head.

"I want to." I say, only the three words and Niall is perfectly happy. The smile coming back to light up his face. I trust him more than I've ever trusted anyone besides Car and Mum. But they're both gone, so that only leaves one spot for my trust. Niall. As soon as Sydney and my father ran by, still looking high and low for us, the policeman said the coast was clear. He'd called his buddy to come get them. Any minute now, they'd be in jail for a while, atleast until their court case. 

Niall asked the cop for a ride, which he happily gave to us, after all our troubles. He needed directions there, so Niall happily told him his adress. Well, pretty much my new adress too. Niall grabbed my hand and we both settled in the back for the five minute ride to Niall's place.  It's so weird how you can get so close to someone in such a little time, but without having anybody else in my life for me, Nialll was it. It was definetly only Niall that I could trust. My dad probably thought I got hit by a car. No, I'm sure he hopes I was. In fact, I think he would prefer to be the one hitting me with the car.

As soon as we got to Niall's, we ran inside, not wanting to take a risk of someone my dad knows seeing where I am. If they know, they'd tell my dad. They'd be tripping over themselves to get me back there. They hate me. We got inside the house and Niall told me we'd go clothes shopping for me tomorrow. For today, I would just need to settle for his clothes. I happily agreed. He handed me some of his sweatpants and a red-t shirt. They were big on me, but what do you expect? He told me he'd be doing some things to lock the house up if I wanted to take a shower while he did it. I agreed to that too. I let the steaming water wash away all the bad in my life. I let it take my troubles and somehow push them down the drain with the used water. I told myself that I was in good hands, which I knew I was. For sure.

Niall was a good guy, he wanted to help, which was good. One more day of constant, over-obsessive abuse and I would have killed myself. I never thought someone would would save me from all of it. Then there was Niall. He brought back my peace and hope. And good will. Now I dont feel so ugly and wotheless anymore. He saved me,. I turned the w ater off and dried myself before slipping into Niall's comfy clothes. They were so much better than the raggedy clothes I had on earlier. Which, had been thrown out. I had my brush with me, compliments of the nice policeman, and I ran the brush through my snarled hair. Once I was done, I walked out, ringing as much water from my now-clean hair as possible. Niall stepped out from the kitchen, finished with the locking up, and tossed the towel in the dirty clothes. He smirked at me, and and walked over to me, wrapping his arms around me. I didnt pull away.

"You look good in my clothes." He says, smirking again when he pulled back.

"Do I?" I ask, finally able to talk with him more. More than the usual one syllable words.


"Yes, very much you do." He says, taking my hand and leading me to the couch. We sat down, and I admired the things in this house. The t.v. was bigger than my old house. Everything was perfect, especially Niall. He was the most perfect. My saviour.

"So, how about we get some rest, then we have our date tomorrow?" He asks, I can see the sleep in his eyes, and I was tired too, after a long hard day. No more abuse tomorrow, though. I was starting off fresh.

"Sounds good." I say, nodding. He smiles.

"Good. I'm beat." He says standing up and reaching for my hand, which I grant to him. We walk down to his room and he says one more thing, "You can sleep with me, if you want." He says. I nod and we both go into his bedroom. It was huge.

He lets me climb into the king-sized bed first, then climbs in next to me. He scoots closer to me, I feel his hot skin pressed up against me where his t-shirt came off my back. He was pressed right to me, and I didnt pull away. I trust him. He slowly, hesitantly snaked his arms around me. I didnt move away from that either. He pulled me a bit cloer, holding me against his chest as if afraid I would slip away. We spooned the whole night long, his body keeping me warm. The blanket kept falling off, but him being there was warm enough. I didnt complain or pull away from him. His hot breath on the back of my neck sent chills down my spine. Good chills. I fell asleep within 20 minutes. with no problem at all.


Morning came upon us quickly. The light bursting through the windows from a bright new day. No horror today. Even though I'm not quite ready to admit so out loud, I like Niall. More than I thought I did, actually. I like the way he looks at me, hold me, protects me. His whole existance is amazing. My amazing saviour. Our date is today, which I was already nervous for, feeling the pit of my stomach drop from nerves. I'm not much of a talker, or go-getter.




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