Freedom Isn't Only Physical(One Direction Fanfic)

Mary(also known as Mars Bars) was one of the girls you would consider popular. She had a normal life, better than the average person would--but when her father is murdered during a day at work, her mother becomes an empty shell. After a night the both regret, Mary leaves her house in search of a new life--and just so happens to run into five boys that change her life.
(Fanfic about One Direction... and a specific boy. Taken at a realistic pace(I hope). I don't own the cover image!)


3. I Lied To Myself

Panic engulfed me and I looked at the face of Alexandra. Was it really her or was it the bench? And who called my name? I could not run anymore, I could not fight--how could I, anyway? What did I know about fighting? Aside from rough-housing, but that was totally different.

"Mary!" the voice repeated. My heart fluttered like a hummingbird's wings and I clutched the ground, stuffing my face into the grass.

I lied to myself, I cry. I was crying at the very moment. I could not go back with Alex, I could not take her harsh treatment. I refused to be used. I refused...

"Mary!" the voice repeated. My head snapped up, a scowl coloring my face.


There he stood, looking down at me with a kind smile that graced his beautiful features. Who would do this to me, trick me so crudely? God must have hated me. That, or I was hallucinating. But what did I do to hallucinate? He walked closer and bent down, smiling. His warm scent washed over me and I instantly relaxed, leaning towards him. The word formed on my lips and spilled from my mouth, tumbling into the cold night air, "Father."

He smiled brightly and gently lay a hand onto my shoulder, making tiny circles on the cloth of my coat with his index finger. "Go to sleep, love."

And I did.



Everything hurt, everything. My lungs rattled and my throat was clenched like I was trying to hide tears. Heat beat down on my back and I squirmed at the intensity of it, struggling to smack away the fire I was sure that ate at me. My elbows burned and they popped when I moved them. My leg throbbed and I wanted to rub the pain away, but my body was uncooperative. I struggled to even flex a finger.

Man, what was going on? I cringed, breathing deeply, and forced an eye to assess the outside world.

I faced a wooden bench that crouched beside a small, fragile-looking tree. In the distance, there was a parking lot that was littered with numerous cars. Further than that, there were screaming children that bounced around on large, metal playground equipment. The screaming hurt my ears, made me flinch. Parents looked on, chattering occasionally amongst themselves.

Who cared about them? Not me. I cared about myself.

And, man, ouch. Ouch.

The numbness in my veins began to fade as my heart began to actually work. I felt like a zombie, moved like one. Slowly, I put a hand below my chest and pushed up, supporting myself with my arms. My elbows screamed in protest and I nearly fell back into the ground, and I honestly wanted to. The pack swung on my shoulders and I groaned, sitting upright unsteadily. I stretched my legs out in front of me, glaring at them unseeingly. The events from last night hit me like a cannon, or like someone that launched themselves out onto the water and belly-flopped.


"Ow, ow, man, ow," I complained to thin air.

At least I had Casper. Right?

When I had taken that fall on my elbows, I did not expect them to ache this much. Surely they couldn't be more than bruised? Slowly, I reached for my sleeve and tugged at it, pulling it further up my arm. I rotated my shoulder, grimacing at the instant pain that jolted downwards. I bit my lower lip, hard, and dropped my gaze onto my one elbow--since I expected the other to be the same for the most part.

What I saw made me want to hurl.

The flesh was a dark, dark red-purple that mixed together like paint blurred on a board. Blue wrapped around the edges of the injury, spreading up towards the veins on the crease of my elbow. I flexed the joint only barely, piercing my lip with canines when pain danced all around my body, sickening me. Oh, man. I really screwed up. Gingerly, I touched it, and even with the light touch, I nearly fainted. Dark danced around my vision and I let out a groan, my heart pulsing quickly. Oh, man. I really, really screwed up. Tugging the sleeve down my pale arm, I reached out towards my leg. Instant pain crawled up my leg and towards my spine, and I fought the intense desire to wither around. I didn't want to look at my leg, look at the way it mutated over night, but I knew it was a necessity. Grouping the end of my jean leg, I began to tug it up, flinching at the pain in my elbows and the contact of cloth on leg.

The sight of my leg made me gag, and, unable to keep the bile down that scratched up my throat, I bent over my side and spilled my guts onto the grass. It burned my parched throat, made my body shudder in agony. It clung to my mouth and I wiped at it, so disgusted I nearly hurled again. This time, I swallowed it.

Slowly, I looked back at my leg, a hand clapped over my mouth tightly. The skin was gray all over, aside from the deep red cuts that trailed down my flesh, like someone had taken a crimson-colored blade and treated a gray curtain with it. The skin that had taken the hits puffed out with infection, but the whole of it was swollen. Blood welled out of the crevices, dripping down.

Dang, how could I have forgotten medicine? I was stupid--so, so stupid. Infection, bruises, no medicine, cold, alone...

I need a savior.

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