When I woke up that morning I felt like I was not supposed to wake up. I was supposed to be dead. My body was killing me, not speaking about the bloody and teary face. To be honest, I did not know if it was more tears or blood. But who cared anyway? I closed my eyes, hoping it was all a bad dream and I will wake up. Wake up to something like to the same happy world like I used to 3 years ago.
Just as I turned over to reach for my phone I noticed a letter was pinned on it. It was from him...
Wedding is at 11. Limo picks you up. Look decent and be the perfect daughter. If something goes wrong you can only wait...
Make wise choices whore,
Once I read the last line, tears spiked up inside my eyes but then I realised I could not cry anymore because no liquid was left. This is bad, last night was one of the worst beatings I have ever gone through and I am sure the bruises will not be hidden by a small layer of make-up. Shit, this will be bad, very bad, oh please help me.
My panic grew to an even higher level when I looked at the clock. 9.00 O clock. This was even worse than I thought. I sprinted out of my bed towards the bathroom only to collapse with pain clutching my stomach.
As I got up the second time I was a little more cautious. Once I made it to the bathroom mirror, I looked with disgust at the figure staring at me in the mirror. Yes, this is me..
Hello, my name is Ester Bakers. I am 17 years old and I live with my dad. Well, if you can call that abusive monster that. I still have some kind of feeling for him though. He is still my dad. Or isn't he? My mother died in a car crash 3 years ago leaving me with only one relative. Dad. Dad is rich. Very rich indeed and he is the manager of the famous One Direction. To be honest 1D music is amazing but my dad would beat the crap out of me if he found out so I am supposed to keep as far from the boys as possible.
They sometimes come to our house for meetings. But I am always locked up inside my room. Dad always removes all the evidence of my presence. Well, there isn't much to be honest. There are no pictures of me in the fireplace as they used to. But no one cares. My dad manages 1D, but I never met them.
Sucks, I know. The worst thing was that not even the worse physical pain could stop one thing. My heart of loving.
Not in my wildest dreams I could picture what was coming...
One Hour and couple more minutes later
I applied the final touches to my makeup. Every time I even so slightly brushed something on my face it made me flinch in pain. The bruise was covered but still not as perfectly as I wanted it to. The white dress reached just to my knees and highlighted my slim figure. My hair was put down in cute curls and helped cover up the long bloody scar that reached all the way from my neck to my belly button.
I stumbled just a little on my heals as I got into the limo. As we approached the huge beach villa where the wedding took place I could not help but fell sad. All those innocent people who have no idea what is under the mask. No idea what happened behind the closed door.
Soon my phone buzzed. I did not even bother to look at who the text was from.
Dad: Bitch better make it on time, the 1D boys will be here if I even see you look at them you will be punished. Understood!
Me: Yes sir.
Ok, this will be a really hard day. I secretly have once had a special space for the boys in my heart. Who doesn't? But since I was beaten for it many times, now I sort of hate the boys for many reasons: they made dad rich and so powerful, they were one of the reasons my dad started beating me, but also it was hurting me very deep inside to not be able to even look at them.
Soon my limo rolled up to the red carpet. Ok, here we go I sighed putting on my fake smile. Once my legs touched the soft carpet I felt a rush of warm air and adrenaline. I kinda enjoyed people liking me. They were one of the only reasons I lived. All the love, they sent me, made me feel loved. Made me fell like at least someone wanted me.
I stood there in the middle of the stage. The little 8-year old child. I felt so alone. Then the judges came in. It was quick and I was casted for my first model photo shoot. From that time on if I am supposed to count I have no idea how many sessions and photographs I took.
The first time I saw my face on a wall in the airport I screamed now I don't budge. Modeling is fun, but it is not what I believe I should be. I like medicine... But that thought is not allowed. I always think if it was not for him being their manager would I have this. He wants a perfect famous daughter to show off to the world. Not some kind of study freak. If he would not be famous this would be changed...
Modeling makes me feel proud and helps with my confidence. Okay then, modeling is sort of my passion. But when you are forced into something then there will always be a part of you which wants to rebel against it.
End of Flashback
I was pulled out of my daydream by fans screaming my name. I need to admit I was a quite famous model and my dad being the manager made my career boost too. Some asked question about modelling and this stuff but what I most hated was the questions about the boys. "Do you know the boys," One screamed. " Do you like any of the boys," another yelled. Uh, I hate this if they only knew what was under the mask of all of this.
As I moved on signing and posing I was just about to enter the huge mansion when another fan yelled "Do you love modelling,". This made me stop. I liked it, all the cute clothes, sexy models, flashing cameras and fame but on the other hand I loved learning and I liked school. I know you think I am weird now, but it's just me.
I was rushed inside door shrugging, still in deep thought about the question. I was pulled out of my little daydream by the noise outside rapidly increasing. I looked out just to find five boys in tuxedos waving at the fans. I felt my stomach do a loop when they started walking my way. They were so hot.
Wait I was not supposed to think that. I quickly exited to the closest door only to find a bar. Wow, this place was really beautiful it was like a modern castle. Balloons hung everywhere and everything was white. Honestly I did not really have and idea whose wedding it was but I did not care. This was normal, going to random events because of one person, my dad.
I ordered a drink. The barman eyed me closely. Probably checking for my age. Then better deciding not to argue with me if I am the legal drinking age he took my order. Soon I was finished deciding it was not the best idea to get too drink in case my dad made up his mind to make me do something, like make a speech. Sounds weird but that man is capable of anything.
I lifted my legs off the chair, but I slipped on something. No clumsy me again. I was just about to fall to the ground when a pair of muscular arms caught me ....