Under my skin

Chapter 21 - Leaving like Mum.

*Author’s note*

Alright lovely readers, it's going to start getting interesting from now, so hold on tight :D 

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR GETTING ME PAST 2200 READS!

you guys are so incredible, I love knowing that people are reading my work! 

I am sooooo soooo soooo sorry it's taken me more than a week to upload! Even I can hardly believe that it took me that long to get around to post :L

I reallly really want to write for all my readers, but school is just so hectic :( Hope you enjoy the chapter even more after the long wait xx <3 <3

Love you all, and I hope you enjoy :D

Oh, and I'm really sorry for the language in this part - it was necessary for the chapter xx

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Chapter 21 - @Julia_Golafshan (twitter)

*Ivy’s POV*

As Harry left, I felt quite curious as to what just happened.

I don’t know how I could have been so stupid as to leave blood on the floor, I thought I had cleaned all my mess up!

I went to my bathroom and observed what Harry had seen; there was indeed blood on the floor. I must have had blood drip from my arm as I left the bathroom, and that’s how I didn’t see it…

I know it sounds grotesque, but the blood doesn’t bother me one bit now – I don’t even care about hurting myself anymore.

As I cleaned the blood up, I wondered how long Directioners would hate me for, and how long until people forgot about me, forgot about the girl named Ivy Gallaher. 

I took the dinner off the stove, and went upstairs to do homework, wondering when Dad would get home.

My mind kept wondering, but I finally got through all of it and started revision for the finals.

It wasn’t long until I heard the door bell, and smiling to myself, I walked downstairs.

It would be nice to be around dad while he was happy, maybe he could cheer me up!

 I gave dad a big hug, and smiled; the first sincere smile all day.

But then I smelled it.

Dad had been drinking again.

He promised me he wouldn’t, but he had gone and gotten drunk, I could smell it on his breath!

Instinctively, I cowered away, but dad pulled me towards him.

“Don’t be shcared of me, Ivy,” he slurred, “I wuv you with all my heart and shoul.”

I tried harder and harder to get away from his hands, but dad’s iron grip wouldn’t let me go.

“Dad, STOP!” I yelled, trying to make him listen. “Let me go, please dad! You promised me you would stop!”

The feelings of fear and pain seared through my body, and I clenched my teeth trying not to scream with the pain.

Finally, he let me go, slapping my face as I stumbled backwards.

“You’re shuch an ignorant bitsch, did you really think I wuved you? You’re jusht as shtupid as your fucking shlut of a mother, that bitsch got what she desherved.”

Speechless, I tried to get up, but my legs collapsed from under me; I slowly crawled, meter by meter away from Dad, towards the stairs.

I could hear him laughing like a maniac, and anger turned my vision red.

I couldn’t believe he had said those things about my mother, how DARE he insult her?

She was a perfect woman, beautiful and amazing, and all I have are photos of her.  

I slowly regained my strength moving up the stairs, and by the time I had made it up there, I could walk to my room.

Shaking, I took my duffel bag out from under the bag and packed my hairbrush, clothes, pajamas, some money and my phone.

Glancing around the room, I remembered two vital things I had missed – my razor and the bandaids.

After I had put that all into my bag, I took out a hoodie and a pair of sunglasses and put them on. Maybe the sunglasses could hide some of the would-be bruise that Dad had given me.

 I put a pair of toms on quickly, and slowly walked down the stairs, praying he wouldn’t hear me. But there he was, waiting for me at the front door.

Frozen in fear, I waited for him to make the first move.

“I knew you would try to leave, you give up so easily. Come on Ivy, what are you waiting for?” He mocked me with his voice, making me feel like I was weak and insignificant – a fact which I am already aware of.

“Don’t you want to leave?”

I took two steps towards the door, and then another two: he didn’t move away.

I took another two, getting closer, and he opened the door, allowing me to see the street outside, the stars, the black of the sky.

I kept taking small steps until I was two meters away from him, my heart pounding like a drum.

“Please, just let me leave, I’m going to Beck‘s house, she can take me to school in the morning, and I’ll be gone, okay Dad? I’ll leave like fucking mom did!”

My voice started to tremble, and I prayed with everything I had that I wouldn’t start crying – I couldn’t start crying in front of him.

“God knows I want you gone, get out!!” He screamed the last word at me, and moved forward, grabbing my hair to pull me out the door.

“Oh, and Ivy? Don’t you ever come back, bitch.”

The door slammed behind me, and the first tear I had cried for a long time slipped down my cheek.

I couldn’t believe I had believed what he said, about my mother: all I wanted to do was get away from him like she did.

I reached for my phone and slowly dialled Beck’s number as she got up. She answered in a high-pitched, excited voice, and I couldn’t help but wince at the difference in our lives.

“Hello? This is Beckayyy!!” she yelled.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said quietly, as I started to walk away from the house. “I was wondering if I could stay at your place tonight?”

“Umm, well I hate to tell you no, but...” Her voice trailed off and she sounded a bit nervous. “It’s just that... well, I’m kind of with Nathan, if you know what I mean.”

Well, that explained it.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it, it’s nothing anyway.”

Hanging up, I felt utterly and totally screwed.

Until I remembered somebody else who cared... Harry.

Should I call him? My head fought a mental battle until I remembered that I had nowhere to sleep tonight, and it would be the park unless I found a friend.

I scrolled down to his number and pressed call, the phone dialled, and I waited.

Nothing.

He didn’t pick up.

I wanted to throw my phone at the ground and scream, but since that probably wasn’t the best idea, I decided to try one more time, this time calling Niall – it seems like he really cares about me, and I hoped he wouldn’t be annoyed with me.

Taking a breath, I dialled his number, and after two rings, he picked up.

“Hello, this is Niall?”