Loving An Abused Virgo

My name is Lydia Hawthorne. My parents named me that. I can never change it. I am not a thorn like my surname suggests. I can be a needle in the side sometimes but that is only when I don't get what I want, and most of the time I don't even know what I want. Maths whizz Lydia Hawthorne is tired of being abused in school. She sometimes whizzes herself into fantasy reality with her precious Niall Horan. Will she ever find her River Niall? It's 75% possible...

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"W-what?" I ask, baffled.

The seventeen year old boy scoops me up in both his arms. His left arm supporting my back whilst his right arm supporting my legs.

"HEY! PUT ME DOWN YOU BIG BRUTE!!!" I shout. "THIS IS 95.5% SO WRONG!!!!" I scream and kick, trying to escape from this boy who it's probably trying to take me to Anja right now.

"STOP! THEY'RE GONNA THINK YOU'RE MAD!" He says, gesturing to the people on the street.

"THEY'RE GOING TO THINK I'M TRYING TO GET AWAY FROM YOU!" I scream. I'm not going back to Anja. Not ever! I can't! 

 

Thump thump thump! I shake up and down to the rhythm of him running. I cry out. My heart rate frequently going up. The dents and fractures in my ribs and face. The scars clothing my entire body.

"Shh... It's okay..." The boy tells me. If he really was taking me to Anja then why be so gentle?

"W-why a-are y-you try-trying to h-help me?" I stutter, feeling the tears come from all this pain I feel.

"I don't know who you are but you're health is in real trouble. I'm taking you to a medical centre where people can help." He replies. "And please stop talking in percentages."

A small smile stows away on my lips,"would you prefer me to talk in decimals?" I whisper.

 

Eventually, we come to a building with the words 'Appleton Medical Centre' written in blue. The boy runs through the twisting doors and pushes past the que.

"Wait in line please." A beautiful woman, with green eyes and blonde hair in a messy side bun, says. She is wearing a white hospital coat.

"MUM! It's an emergency!" The boy says.

The woman looks up from her papers and her eyes look hard at me.

"I'm glad you came when you did Peter. The poor girl... How did that..?"

"I found her sobbing in an alleyway a few minutes ago. Whatever happened to her made it's mark." Peter, still holding me, replies.

"Follow me." Peter's mum orders. She comes out from behind the counter and takes us into a private medical ward.

 

I am taken inside and Peter lays me town on the hospital bed/table. I cry out once more. Five nurses dressed in blue gloves, White coats and mouth masks run in.

"Well?" Peter asks. One of the nurses reply.

"No surgery is necessary, however we might not be able to send her home for a few days." She replies.

Oh great. Stuck here. At least I'll miss a few days of abuse.

"Leave please." Another nurse says.

Peter's mum opens the door and moves out. Peter looks reluctant to leave and has to force his legs out the door. It shuts behind them.

The nurse looks back at me.

"You poor girl. What have they done to you?"

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