Broken Sparrow

Verity is young nineteen year old girl, with her life laid out before her, but her life seems to have already ended. The boy she was with since she was fifteen has made her life a living hell, however, her heart belongs to another, but the feral punishments that will follow if she goes with him are unimaginable. People thought London was a city of dreams and prosperity, filled with promise, but now the only promise she is filled with is a nightmare.

***Not appropriate for people under 15***



2. Verity

I lead on the floor, my knees curled up to my chest as I wrapped my arms around them. Bottle-glass avenue seemed never ending and the pain from my hand, face and ankle felt as if it was being stabbed by the unforgiving wind. I bowed my head in between my knees, praying that the man following me had taken a different turning, but praying never helped me before.

"Damn it, Verity, you got us out of breath." The boy sounded as if his mouth curled into a smirk, his voice was gritty and I knew it as soon as he spoke. I could smell the weed radiating off of his clothes and the stench of booze lingered in the air. We? The word seemed to fumble around my cluttered mind, there was more than one of them?

The street lamp from the alley blessed me with a fragment of light, allowing me to see the ghost-like-shadows appear from behind my newly found friend. I counted eight tall, black frames.

"Why run? You even hurt yourself, that was our job." The group began to laugh, the cackle reminded me of a murder of crows squawking.

"Who the hell are you?!" I screamed, I knew no one would take notice in London if a girl screamed, she could scream until her lungs burst and no one would bat an eyelid. "Why...?" My words trailed off like leaves in the breeze, I knew the answer.

The small gang dispersed allowing one boy to walk through. "Hello, Sweetie." His voice made my skin crawl and my body shudder. He was meant to be in prison.

"Kian." His name left a bad taste in my mouth. My whole body tensed. "Long time no see, sadly not long enough." My gut churned as he stepped closer, his cigarette lit up a small orange glow in the dark.

A ravaging burning sensation ripped through me as he stubbed his seething cigarette out on my neck, my skin melted and the burning of my flesh stained the air. I screamed and threw myself at him, he stepped back and laughed as I fell to the floor with a thud. Grit and dirt found its way beneath my fingernails and the rest decided to smother all over my jeans. I would not cry, he had made me cry enough. He stood there examining me, I could imagine his ice blue eyes flickering up over my body and his lips twisting into a sadistic smile. He was drunk with power over me, as before.

I was only fourteen when I met Kian, I was new to the school and wanted to have someone to talk to. With his blue eyes as cold as icebergs and his charcoal black hair, it didn't take me long to swoon to his feet. He was so lovely, warm and kind, we laughed and he was my best friend, I slowly but surely fell in love. But his dad became an un-resolvable problem, his dad was a drug dealer, not just any kind, he owned south London. His dad encouraged Kian to deal, and soon he was, selling in school and out of school, he gradually worked his way up to the top. He made me leave school at fifteen and he forced me to move into his crack-den, I was beaten and abused, I lost my blue-eyed boy. I couldn't take it, I wanted out. I successfully sneaked out one night and ran to the police, they finally had what they needed, evidence. Within twenty-four hours Kian was locked up, I can still feel his eyes burning into me as I sat in the witness booth. I was sixteen when he was locked away, out of sight and out of mind, but now three years have passed, and he seems to be seething.

I span back to reality to find Kian crouching in front of me, eyes radiating hatred and aggression. "Still a whiny little bitch." He lit up another cigarette, he took a long drag and blew the smoke in my face making me gag.

"Still a punk." I looked him in the eyes and I spat in his face.

His fist hurtled towards my face and the collision ended with my hands being cupped around the fountain of blood which was my nose. He laughed as he swung his muscly leg into my gut making my whole body double-over in agony. He kicked me again, and again, the pain become excruciating to the point where I could hardly feel my own body. My mind began to drift in and out of consciousness, my thoughts free to rome, but my body remained trapped in the deep dark cavern which was the alley. I thought of my dad, how he spent over a month in intensive care because Kian's goons jumped him outside the shop, they beat my dad until they thought he had stopped breathing, all because I put Kian inside. Now he's out, I wondered how many months I'd grace the intensive care unit with my presence.

The gangs laughter began to fade, and reality was twisting out of my weak grasp. My breaths became jagged and my heart began to slow. Was I dying? The punches kept coming and I had two gang members kicking my back, sending me into spasm. While I could focus my eyes all I saw was Kian, smiling like the Cheshire Cat, revealing his white teeth behind his twisted grin.

The punching stopped, but the kicking continued. "You had such a pretty face, Verity." Kian said softly as he stroked my blood stained cheek, I flinched at his touch. As I pulled away, he grabbed my head and swung it towards the ground, but stopped just before my eye could collide with the glass beneath me. He laughed again, sending chills up my battered spine.

He ran his hand through my tangled auburn hair, clotted with blood. He started to kiss my neck. I flinched and flinched each time his poisoned lips connected with my flesh. "Had." He whispered and threw my head into the ground. 


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