Broken (Harry Styles)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

I don't say anything as I feel the impact of his fist collide with the right side of my face. The stinging feeling in my cheek is familiar to me, reminding me of just how often he does this.

I fall to the floor when he raises his leg and knees me in the stomach. I don't look him in the eye or say anything in fear of fueling his already bad mood.

As I lay on the floor of our kitchen he kicks me one last time before turning around to leave.

I hear him mumble "worthless piece of shit!" directed at me before leaving the house completely. I have no idea where he goes when he leaves the house but I know for sure he'll go some place where he can get his hands on some alcohol.

When I finally find the strength in my body to stand up I start cleaning up the few things that got knocked over or shattered when my dad was beating me.

While I pick up some broken glass I can't help but think about how different my life used to be.. Back when my mother was alive, we used to be such a close family.

"Ouch" the damn glass cut my hand.

I walk up the stairs to enter my bedroom where the fist aid kit is. I stand in front of my mirror as I clean the small cut and put a band-aid on it to stop the bleeding.

I look at my reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall, my blonde hair and blue eyes brings my thoughts to my mother and our many similarities. She died when I was 12 years old, an awful car accident. She was on her way to pick me up from a friends house when a truck crashed in to her car. She died on the way to the hospital.

My dad never looked at me the same again.

The beatings weren't so bad the first few years after her death. It would only happen when my dad was really drunk or if he was reminded a little too much of her. But as the years went by the abuse got worse and worse. He kept saying it was my fault that she died and it didn't help anything that I was starting to look so much like her.

A part of me hates my dad so much for what he does to me but at the same time I completely understand him.. I killed her. It's my fault she's dead. He's right by calling me worthless, ugly, stupid, a waste of space and everything else he always throws at my face.

After going back down to straighten up the last few things in the kitchen I make myself some dinner. I'm a pretty decent cook, well since my dad doesn't do a lot of cooking I was kind of forced to fend for myself.

I made some pasta with meatballs and garlic bread on the side. I always make sure that there is enough for my dad so I put the leftovers in a Tupperware container and placed it in the fridge for him to eat when he comes back during the night or perhaps tomorrow morning.

***

I stretched out in bed. I really didn't want to get up, mostly because of my sore body but also because it was only six thirty in the morning.

Eventually I did force myself out of my warm bed and into my small bathroom, it's small but I really like it because it's attached to my bedroom and it's only for me to use, my dad has his own down the hall.

I let the water of the shower loosen up my tense shoulders. I'm happy to find that I only have a small visible bruise under my eye, thankfully the worst damage was done to my stomach but since I don't have to show anyone that part of my body I'll be fine with a little make up to cover the assault on my face.

I got dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, a black plain tank top and a cream colored cardigan, it usually gets warm in the cafe that I work at but I still have to wear the cardigan to cover myself up, I don't need people asking questions regarding my scars.

I put on some concealer to cover the bruise on my cheek and added a little powder so it looked natural.

I didn't have to check to know if my dad was home because there were empty beer bottles on the kitchen counter and the dinner I made for him last night were lying in the sink. He defiantly came home during the night. Drunk. I quickly cleaned up the mess he had left behind and made it out of the house to go to work.

Lucky for me I have a long shift at the cafe. I hope that when I get home later today that he won't be hungover, cause he's never in a very good mood when hungover..

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That's the first chapter of broken. I know it's not very long but I promise the length of the chapters will get longer soon.

This is a one direction fan fiction so hold on they will show up soon.

So please vote, comment and all that to let me know you are enjoying it and want more:-)

Picture on the side of how I imagine Rebecca looks:-)

By the way, the first few chapters won't evolve very much about one direction, but this is a one direction fan fiction and they will play a huge role. I'm thinking they will be a bigger part after 6 or 7 chapters so hang in there:-)