You Are Everything I See ~One Direction FanFic

Part Seventeen

I wriggled violently, trying to get out his grasp, but it only made him hold me tighter. He pushed my right arm up and held it still with one of his arms. He smirked widely as he bent down, close to my arm. He brought the cigarette down to my skin.

I let out a blood-curling scream, unable to hold it back any longer. Why has nobody called the police? Why has nobody come around to see if I’m okay? Oh yes, because this is London, and they don’t want to get involved.

My scream only made Dylan chuckle and twist the cigarette, as it burnt my flesh. He pulled it back, admiring his handy work, before he repeated the action again, and again.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five…

I closed my eyes and counted the times he dug the cigarette into my forearm.

Think of Zayn. I thought; trying to keep my mind from my burning arm. His beautiful eyes, his amazing singing voice, his melodic laugh, his dorky attitude, the way he can always make me laugh…

Six… Seven…

I opened my eyes, that were heavy, and I felt like I needed to sleep, but I knew I couldn’t.

That’s when I saw them. I reached out with my left arm, making a discreet grab for the scissors Dylan had carelessly dropped beside me. They felt heavy in my hand, but I knew I had to do it.

Eight… Nine…

I held them tightly in my hand and raised my arm the best I could as Dylan continued to burn my other arm.

Ten…

I threw my arm, with as much force as possible, forward and stabbed Dylan’s arm with the scissors.

He cried out in pain and jumped off of me.

*End of flashback*

I blinked and walked over to the blood, noticing the used cigarette bud also nearby. Images of him burning my arms floated back in my head as I bent down and picked up Zayn’s clothes with my trembling hands.

“He ruined Zayn’s clothes,” I whispered, my voice shaking.

“It’s okay hun,” Danielle whispered as her and Eleanor walked over to me.

“He’ll be mad at me,” I continued, tears falling down my face at the thought.

“No, he won’t Li,” Eleanor spoke softly.

“Maybe I should ring Zayn, tell him where we are, they’re finished in the recording studio now, he’ll be heading back to his apartment,” Danielle whispered to Eleanor and then walked out the flat.

“He’s going to be so angry, I’ve ruined his clothes!” I said hysterically. The thought of Zayn being angry with me, possibly even hating me, made me feel sick to the stomach.