"Try Me."

When a murdered gang-leaders mute daughter, Esme, moves to a town known for it's gangs she instantly attracts attention from members of all gangs especially that of the monstrous leader, Harry Styles.
All Esme wanted was to escape, unscathed and undamaged.
Can a monster, a demon, a player prove his labels wrong and win the heart of a depressed damsel?
Can a broken doll heal her burdens while trying to fix the mental affliction of a killer?

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1. The Voiceless Angel.

Mood Song: Summer time Sadness

And there I was. Silent. Barely existing.

The faint beating of my heart and the slight rise and fall of my chest assuring I was still animate.

I often ponder over the fact I'm still alive although I wish I wasn't.

I knew that I had to distract myself from the deep state of depression I'd become emerged in.

My whole life I've wanted to escape.

Escape from the cruel hell hole they call 'school'. 

I was tired of their sing-song chants as I walked through the corridors.

"Slut slut slut slut, slut slut slut slut" I heard as I drifted into sleep every night.

Their cruel jokes permanently haunting both my consciousness and sleep.

It took all of me not to just leave, run away, hide, I was tired. So so tired.

I gently release the final golden lock from the hot barrel of the curler letting it fall to the cluster over my shoulder. I coat my plump lips with a rosy gloss, line and accent my eyes with an ashy and coffee brown shadow and liner, brush up my already long lashes and smear on a little concealer.

I glare at the uniform as if it were a beast although to me it was the equivalent. It was quite provocative especially for a school uniform. I secure the shapely white button down, pull on the short plaid green-blue skirt up my body securing it at my waist, i roll a pair of black opaque leggings over my legs and lace on a pair of black ankle boots.  I knot a matching plaid tie around my neck. I stare into the mirror disapprovingly I look like a slut, like the slut every one says I am. 

It took all of me not to have a break down. So much for escaping from the name calling.

*****

After leaving the administrative office accompanied by the school counselor I was directed to the location of my first class where I'd be excluded from class discussion due to my 'condition'.

As I walk into the corridor I'm 'greeted' to the school by a group of bleach-blonde girls in skimpy versions of the uniform and clumpy black mascara, a cluster of jocks snickering as they admire one of the bent over girls and huddles of nerdier and regular kids. But what really drew my attention was a brawl between two boys shoving each other against the lockers and throwing punches. As I was led through the doorway the entire hall becomes silent with the exception of the two brawling boys and their friends who continued grunting not taking notice.

I heard whispers all about me, they'd obviously been told about me and that made them feel awkward, shocked and confused I knew the feelings well. As I became closer one boy who's face was bruised, bloodied and mopped with messy brown curls turned to look at me and the other used this to his advantage kneeing him harshly. I winced as the boy grunted. As if on queue the other boy with a messy mahogany quiff with both sides shaved short. After exchanging a weird look they pulled apart moving in the direction of their friends. 

The curly haired boy staring at me with an almost entranced look while the other smirked looking me up and down. I looked down self consciously as the counselor scowls at the two before guiding me further through the school.

The counselor shows me the classroom and leaves me to unpack my possessions into my locker. "Good morning Mrs Oliver, Jayce and I will show Esme around?" A beautiful brunette smiled. She looked a lot like the sluttier girls but she wasn't as spray tanned and obvious blonde highlights rather than being bleach blonde. The counselor greeted the girl before leaving me in the hands of the couple before me. 

"Hi, I'm Taylor and you're Esme." she smiles holding out a hand, I shake it giving her a genuine smile. "I'm Jayce. Taylor's Boyfriend." The tall brunette boy holding Talor's hand sweetly grins.  "I don't mean to be rude or anything but..." she paused hesitantly, "You don't speak do you?", I flash a sad smile to express my untainted ease before shaking my head in a 'no'.

She smiles faintly before dragging me into the art room. "I'm sorry class, in result of two accidents under my supervision I have to fill in incident reports. So today I want you to create a piece of art inspired by the topic 'beauty'.", "Taylor, I trust you'll help Esme around the art studio?", "Of course, Mr C!" Bree exclaims before dragging me though the crowd of students pulling materials from the storeroom. 

I begin sketching a drawing of a boy kissing a girl after securing my hair back. i found the idea of love intriguing and beautiful therefore I made the drawing about it. 

"Okay class before you leave please take a look at each others work." The teacher comments still curled over his desk scribbling at his papers. I circle the room as I examine each sculpture and drawing when I notice numerous glares at me. I self consciously tuck my hair behind my ear to find a huddle of kids around a canvas. I approach the group to find a sketch resembling myself in great detail. I search the canvas for a signature when I see a curly name name, 'Harry Styles', but why? I mean the topic is beauty, why would he draw me? He's probably a jerk, a player, a flirt.

Suddenly Taylor emerges from the crowd and quickly pulls me away from the canvas, "Uh Come on lets get to our next class." she urges as she drags me away. Although I had decided the artist was probably just looking for a hook up the mystery of the drawing still lingered in my mind. 

As Taylor and Jayce haul me through the halls all passing me was a blur although my name could be distinctively heard being thrown around in conversation. "Ugh just ignore them!" Taylor scowls in almost envious tone.

*****

I'd made it through my first day at this odd school rather than the majority of students being of average ranking many girls were actual sluts they had slept with almost every guy, wore pounds of make up about 3 shades too tan, turned an already  provocative uniform into a hooker Halloween costume. 

The boys much alike. Slept with many.- man whores to be exact. Didn't care for personality only looks and ability in bed. In an odd twist it actually confirmed my belief that I wasn't the slut I was constantly labelled as. 

As I entered my frail mother's home little comfort covered me. I briskly stride through the cold kitchen sharing a sympathetic look to my mother who'd been struggling to cook a stir fry sizzling in the pain. The smell of burnt filling the room. Sympathy and guilt fill my brain and I turn on my heel to assist my mum.

She'd been in and out of the mental hospital since that night when I became mute and paranoia and grief took over my mother. 

I glance over the burning meal before scraping the brown remains into the bin. I grab some eggs, ham, quinoa, tomato, lime, spinach and red pepper and stir the mix into a pan. I turn up the stove heat letting the omelette become a crispy gold. I cut into the cooked mix serving half to my mother and the other for myself. I grind salt and a lot of pepper onto my share of the omelette. I sat silently across from my mother as my chirpy younger sister, Rosalia and older brother, Lucas, chat about some mean girl in her year at school.

I quickly collect the plates and rinse them before retreating to my new room. Pain throbs in my head making me wince at any fast movement or loud sound. These stupid headaches. I breath deeply before swallowing two pain killers and chugging down cold water. I collapse onto the sun bed by my window the warmth helping me drift into a pain free sleep. 

*Tear stains blemish my young flawless skin and I feel my body locking down and I fall against the window. the glass shattering piercing my skin although no pain was felt. "Oh look Braxton, it's you beautiful daughter. Any last words for your daughter?", I see the figure curled on the rough tar mutter something as the crimson fluid drained from their almost lifeless body. "Sweet cheeks, Daddy says he loves you and to find somebody who loves you just as much as he does and will protect you. Isn't that just lovely coming from the mouth of a notorious soulless gang leader." a venomous voice stings into my heart. "Bye bye, Braxton." they laugh humorously. The silhouette responsible for my fathers limp, undeniably dead body draws closer to my window and with out a seconds hesitation  scales the two levels and flings himself into my room.

"Who are you?" I stutter my voice becoming higher than it already was, he sneered tracing his hand over my shoulder, "I'm Ricky but you my dear can call me Uncle Ricky.", "You say a word or say anything to any one  I will find you and hurt you dear, better yet pleasure your young virgin body." Although his words were incomprehensible to my young ears it frightened every ounce of me. "You hear me, beautiful?" I nod the hot tears returning to my eyes and the wet sensation of blood dripping down my arms and off the tips of my fingers soothe my clenched muscles.

His poison lips left a heartless kiss on my burning cheek before escaping out the window gun in hand and my fathers blood dripping off his pistol. My lungs ached and my breathing become a vague hitch. As my body melts to the floor the dull song of sirens fill my ears, I cover my ears, curling into a ball as all sense of reality leaving me. Only my mothers faint sobs and her pleads for me to return to consciousness were audible to me.*

 

I wake up panting, my mothers sobs and eerily familiar shaking. I silently weep into her hair as she strokes my back tenderly. The dreams all too realistic, my father's murder taunting me. 'Uncle Ricky" had caused me to suffer PTSD(Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). Being only 7 I took 'say anything to anyone' literally in all situations. I became a medically diagnosed mute but after a few years I discovered I could still speak but I've chosen not to.

If you don't get close you can't get hurt. 

A/N:
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Esme's Uniform: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=100262267

 

 


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Esme is played by: Emily Didonato

Matt(Bro) is played by: Stephen Amell

Braxton(Dad) is played by: Hugh Jackman

Rosalia(Sis) is played by: Diana Pentovich

Harry styles played by: Harry Styles. duh

Delilah(Mum) played by: Jennifer Connelly

Taylor(friend) is played by: Hayden Panettiere

Jayce(Tay's Bf) is played by: Taylor Lautner

 

If you like me writing please check out my other Harry Styles fanfics:

- "Angelically Demonic"

-"Untamable"

-"You"

-

 

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