Trapped (A Big Time Rush Fanfiction)

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Before we start, let me introduce myself. My name is Natalie Star. I am 20 years old and in collage. I live in Los Angeles. My story starts when I came home from school and saw my dad waiting at the door. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he had been crying.

"Sweetie, put your bag up in your room and come straight down to the car. I'm getting it started it up" he said.

"What happened?" I ask.

" I'll explain everything in the car but just please HURRY UP" And all of a sudden he started sobbing. I did just as I was told an got in the car. Dad started driving. Fast.

"Dad can you tell me what happened now?!" I was really panicking.

"M.. Y-your mom" Those two words hit me like a knife. And I slowly started crying.

"W-what happened to mom?"

"She was taking a walk by the park when a truck came and slammed her against a tree trunk. The only thing that's holding her on to the tree is the truck. If

they move it she's gonna be..... But either way, sh-she's losing blood anyway. We only have a little time to talk to her"

"What do you mean talk. DAD what do you mean by talk" Now I was sobbing 10 times harder than he was.

That all happend 3 months ago. But yet again I have to go back to the week after my moms death. I was sitting in my bedroom crying and texting my bestest friend in the world, Stephenie. I heard footsteps and then my father walked in. He looked like how he did the day I came home from school except there was something more different about his look. It was more of a harsh look. I wiped my tears away.

"Sorry I-" but i never got to finish because I was rudely interrupted by a sharp sting on my cheek. My dad had smacked my face. I was shocked because he never in his life would ever think of doing such a thing.

"W-what the-" I started. But again I was interrupted when he pushed me to the ground and did something I would never have imagined. He kicked me in the stomach but not only once. Multiple times, each time getting harder and harder.



Yea, that was a while ago. Now he does that everyday. My father is now my abuser. I'm like his everyday toy that he gets just so happy to play with. I guess I can't blame him along with the pressure of my mom dead. Everyday I look into the mirror and see body filled with fresh cuts and new brusies along with the old ones. But thats not where my story ends. Its when four boys enter my life that I would have never dreamed of.

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