Broken Crystals

When Crystal collapses in the middle of the road after another beating, headlights are the last thing she sees. She wakes up in a strange house, surrounded by five strange boys. She refuses to relax around them or be herself. But can the one Irish boy with the beautiful blue eyes show her what it means to be loved and fix her cracks?

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5. Escape

**Crystals POV**

 

I glance at the clock on the wall. 6:24pm. I had sat around all day doing nothing other than watching lame soaps on tv that I didn't care about or know what was going on. 

"Crystal?" A familiar accent calls softly from behind the living room door. I don't say anything as the door creaks open and Niall's head looks around the corner. I meet his eyes without uttering a word and he looks around the room, uncomfortable. 

"Did you, erm...did you..." He takes a deep breath and starts again.

"Liam has cooked some dinner, we was wondering if you wanted any?" He looks afraid of me. He looks afraid of what I'll say and how i'll react. 

"What has he made?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Spaghetti I think," Niall looks behind him and nods, returning his gaze to me. He steps further into the room and I shy away; cowering into the corner of the sofa. Niall looks pained for a moment before he gives me a small smile and offers me his hand. I ignore it and stand up, pushing my hair behind my ear and heading out of the room. I stop abruptly at the archway that leads to the kitchen. I can smell it. I can smell food. Smell calories. 

"Alright?" Niall asks softly, coming up behind me. I give a small nod before holding my breath and walking into the room. The four boys sit around the table, all looking at me cautiously. They thought I was a freak. Like I was going to flip out at the sight of food. But I'd had years of practise. 

"Here," Niall says, he seems more comfortable around me than the others. He leads me to a seat beside the curly haired boy and he offers me a shy smile before clearing his throat. 

"How are you feeling?" He asks gently and I shrug. I'd forgotten that he had seen me throw up and then break down. He had no idea what to do; I don't blame him. Neither did I half the time. Another boy with a shaved head walks over and places a small plate infront of me. I try not to look at it.

"Thank you," I murmur, not wanting to appear rude. The boys begin eating and Niall shoots me pained looks from where he sits beside me. I can feel their lingering gazes at my plate and at me. With quivering fingers, I dantily pick up the fork and run my fingertips across the edges. I risk a glance at the plate. Oh god. It looked like worms. I feel bile rise to the back at my throat so I look away. Three of the boys start a conversation and as they talk, I'm fully away of Niall looking at me out of the corner of  his eye as he eats. I look down again, this time telling myself to stop being so stupid. These boys didnt even know me, they had picked me up in the middle of the street and brought me to their house. They had called a doctor to check me out. They had cooked me food. 

They had been kind.

I take the fork and dig it slowly into the spaghetti. I gently begin to twirl it, watching as the worms wrap around the metal. I only have two strands on there but I don't care. My hands shake as I lift the fork up and place it into my mouth. The worms wriggle on my tongue, making me gag. I resist the urge to throw up and eventually swallow. I look up to find all of the boys silent. Staring at me. Niall breaks out into a huge grin at me and I nod, placing my fork down on the plate and concentrating on keeping the food in my stomach. I feel the urge to be sick again but I swallow and rest my hands on my stomach. The boys begin talking again but their voices are distant as I stare at my hands in my lap. My dad would be ashamed. I was ashamed. He would tell me not to take advantage of such lovely boys; that they were only doing it because they felt bad. They felt like they couldn't jut chuck me out on the street. But that's what I deserved. I take another mouthful of spaghetti and wince as it slivers down my throat. I wait for the boys to finish before the one with curly hair stands up and takes the plates away. Niall clears his throat before asking me what I want to do.

"I think I'll just go to sleep," I murmur and he nods, standing up. I follow him upstairs, keeping distance between us as he shows me to the room I woke up in. I say thank you and head inside, closing the door behind me. I don't bother switching on the light, I just close the curtains and make my way blindly to the bed. I flop down and squirm underneath the covers. 

 

I lay there for hours, thoughts rushing round my head. There was so much pressure inside it, I thought I was going to crack and it was all going to come seeping out. That was what I was most afraid of. That it would just fall out and people would know what goes on in the mucked up head of mine. I had been taught to smile. To smile through the pain. My mum told me that, right before she died. She held my hand tightly and told me that no matter how hard things got; I had to smile. I had to stand tall, stand proud and stand happy. Even if I was wrecked and broken inside, I had to be a true crystal on the outside. Crystals shone, but I was broken.

 

Tears roll down my cheeks slowly at the thought of my mum. At the thought of her warm smile and beautiful eyes. She was my rock, my saviour. I wasn't fat when she was alive. And my dad wasn't abusive. My dad only did the things he did because it was my fault. It was my fault, all of it. I sit up and listen to the quiet house. By the sounds of it, everyone had gone to bed. I look at the clock on the bedside table. 2am. Perfect. I pull back the covers and swing my legs round, touching the floor lightly. I stand up with one foot, testing out the floor. Luckily, it made no noise so I place my other foot down and begin to walk over to the door. I crack open the door, glancing up and down the empty hallway. No one there. I hold my breath as I step out and start to make my way to the stairs. I reach the bottom and I'm just about to make a run for it when a body steps into view. I shake with fear and let out a small scream. A hand comes down over my mouth, hushing me as my eyes adjust to the light. I see Niall's blonde hair and blue eyes, wary and anxious. He slowly removes his hand from my mouth and I go to turn back up the stairs.

 "Wait," he says, grabbing my arm. I grimace at his touch and he immediately lets go of my arm. 

"I'm sorry, Crystal." He looks at me, eyes sad. 

"Why were you down here?" He asks, eyebrows knitted together. 

"It's two in the morning," Niall runs a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the roots. 

"I couldn't sleep," I lie. I know that he knows I'm lying. But he doesn't say anything . 

 

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