My Bully

"Please stop daddy!" Tears were rushing down my face and soon I felt a slam against my face, I was on the floor. I felt a kick to my head and then I felt nothing. Your going to live with the Styles for a while. I'd rather hang around at home and get beaten by my father than live with my bully, Harry Styles.


5. Nightmare

I was disappointed when Anne told me that her and Gemma were going to be gone for a few days. Something about mother daughter bonding or something like that. This meant that i was going to be left in this huge house alone. With Harry. 
I stood in the door watching Anne and Gemma's car pull out of the driveway, i was wishing i was in the backseat. 
When the car was out of sight i walked upstairs. I was about to enter my bedroom , but stopped when i heard someone singing.
"Don't let me
Don't let me
Don't let me go
'Cause I'm tired of feeling alone

Don't let me
Don't let me go
'Cause I'm tired of feeling alone"
Harry was really an amazing singer. I was standing kinda awkwardly between my door and the hallway when Harry's bedroom door swung open.
Harry: "Where's my mom? I need to ask her something."
Me:"Her and Gemma left, theyre doing some bonding shit or something. They wont be back for a few days."
A big annoying smirk showed up on Harry's face.
Harry: "So that means its just me and you, in this big house."
I ignored him and walked into my room. I decided i wanted to sleep so i laid down on my bed and took a nap. wanting to never wake up.
"Daddy please stop!" Tears pouring down my bloody face. Images of my father hitting my mom. Kicking my brother. They were all flashing in my mind. "Please stop your going to kill them!" I was screaming at the top of my lungs, hopelessly trying to stop my drunken, abusive father from killing my mother and brother. My only family. My father switched his attention from beating the life out of my brother, to me. He quickly walked over to me and threw a punch to me head. Knocking me to the cold wooden floor. I opened my eyes. I looked around me. My brother in the corner of the couch. Bleeding, not moving a muscle. And my mother unconscious, and sprawled across the couch. Then my father with a gun against my forehead. Finger teasing the trigger.
I woke up from my nightmare with tears running down my face... 

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