"GET OUT OF HERE AND NEVER COME BACK!" my dad screamed, shoving me out the door.
My face was bloodied and bruised, along with my arms, stomach, and legs. My long, dark brown, straight hair was laying down my back and my body was covered in a torn, frayed pair of jeans, a fitted black tank top, a gray hoodie with several rips, and flip flops that were nearly torn apart. I was 5'9 and nicely thin.
I ran as fast as my damaged legs could carry me in the rain. I got to just outside London when the rain got harder and my legs gave out. I forced myself to take shelter next to a huge tourbus for a band that I couldn't make out in the rain. I looked at my reflection in a puddle and gasped. The blood on my face stood out, along with the horribly bleeding gash on my left shin.
I sunk to the ground and tore off a large piece of fabric from my hoodie. I tied it expertly around my shin and rested my head against the wet metal tourbus. Where was I going to go? What was I going to do? I legit have NOTHING now.
Wait. I pulled a small sky blue coin purse from my pocket. I opened the silver clasp and looked inside. Nothing but a hair tie, three bobby pins, and the locket my mom gave me. I tied my hair up, pinned it in place, and clasped the necklace around my neck.
I closed my eyes and flashed back to earlier that day:
Another long, boring day of school. I carried my falling-apart backpack home from school, it holding only my heaviest textbook, my notebook, folder, and pen. I wore slightly frayed jeans with holes on the knees, a black t-shirt without hardly any marks, white flip flops in stable condition, and a gray hoodie without any piercings.
I slowly opened the door to my run-down house and tip-toed in. Before I got more than three feet, I felt a sudden lightness, a stabbing pain in my cheek, a pounding pain in my jaw, and I was on the floor. I opened my eyes and saw my father looming over me, grinning wickedly. In his left hand, he held my backpack that was still jiggling a bit from being swung and his fingernails had a fresh layer of blood on them. I felt the side of my face and sure enough, blood was dripping out.
"How was school?" he asked, adding emphasis to school when he kicked me in the gut and punched me several times in the face.
I laid helpless on the floor, unsure of what to do. My father grabbed one of his knives and slashed my shin before cutting a bit lighter, but not by much, over my arms. It cut tears into my hoodie and when he saw the tears in my eyes well up, he smirked and cut my legs up as well. He grabbed his beer bottle and soaked my wounds in the alcohol. He left me writhing and screaming in pain for just a second before returning with salt and lemon juice, pouring those over my body, making sure to cake it on especially thick over the gash on my shin.
He dragged me to the front door.
"GET OUT OF HERE AND NEVER COME BACK!" he screamed, shoving me out the door and down the front steps.
The rain somewhat soothed the burning sensation.
I was brought back from my flashback when I heard footsteps. I was too weak to even move though. Five teenage boys came into view. All conversation stopped when their eyes landed on me.
"I-I'm sorry. This is your bus, isn't it? Yeah, I'll just be going now. Sorry again, I said hurriedly. I attempted lifting myself to my feet, but could only take two steps before collapsing.
"Woah, wait. You're hurt. Please, come in and let us fix you up," one said sincerely, rushing over to help me.
I weakly nodded and they helped me into the tourbus. I wiped a few strands of my hair, soaked with blood and rain, from my forehead. I lifted my eyes and focused on the five boys.
"One Direction?" I asked.
"That's us!" Louis replied happily.
"Yeah, but that's not important," Liam said, sitting next to me. "What's important is getting you cleaned up."
"Here, you can wear this," Niall smiled, handing me a t-shirt and sweats.
"Thank you," I said gratefully, smiling at him.
"I'll show you to the bathroom," he said, gently taking my hand. He helped me up and as we walked, I could feel his eyes on me. "What's your name?"
"Athena Lansing," I answered. "I'm 18."
He was about to say something else, when we arrived at the bathroom. I carefully shut the door and turned the lock. I pulled off my clothes and quickly showered. I then put on Niall's clothes, but not before wrapping my arms and legs in gauze. I tighted the sweatpants and washed the blood from my face that didn't come off in the shower.
It was repulsive.
I came out, limping a bit. I found my way back to the living room thing and sat down inbetween Niall and Liam.
"Can you tell us what happened?" Zayn asked softly.
So I did.
They were speechless by the end of it.
"Well, Ath, welcome to your new home!" Louis cheered.
"Seriously?!"
"YES!!!" they all said happily.
I couldn't even process how happy I was. I wrapped my weak arms around Liam and hugged him as tight as I could.
"Welcome home, Athena," he whispered. "Welcome home."
