You're So Golden |H.S|

Chapter 5

My eyes slowly open as my bright bedroom lights flicker on and off repeatedly in a quick motion.

"Ariana wake up. I'm leaving in thirty minutes" he yells before the bedroom door slams shut behind him.

I roll over pulling the sheets over my head tightly only to wince at the pain coming from my wrists, as I forgot the argument we had last night, and what he had done to me when he got angry.

Glancing down at my hands, I shake my head when I see the bruises formed on my skin. Taking a deep breath I run my fingers over the broken skin that was left indented from my fathers sharp nails.

I know I should have been more responsible and never brought drugs into the office but this isn't my fault, and nothing I could ever do would ever make it okay for him to react the way he did.

If this happened a couple of years ago I would probably be in bed for a week. Blaming myself and wondering what I could do to fix this. Trying to wrap my head around the thought of how I could make my father so angry to the point he would purposely hurt me.

This isn't my fault though. I can't control how he chooses to react to decisions I make. If he wants to be upset he is allowed to be upset but I will never defend him putting his hands on me.

I'm tired of it, he's always wanting me to defend him for everything, but I can only handle so much pain, and i'm staring to run out of strength.

I roll back over once again until I reach the left side of my bed where my end table sits, and grab ahold of my phone, yanking it from the short white charger.

The second I pick up my cellphone and the bright light shines, I see a few notifications pop up on the screen. A list of text messages from Harry, but instead of his name, his contact name is, 'pretty curly headed boy'

6:34 hey thanks for the chat last night. had a lot of fun. see you soon?

6:49 so I just reread that back and if that was to straightforward i totally didn't mean it

7:03 just text me whenever and we can hang out

7:47 this is harry btw

My cheeks start to feel numb from smiling so big, laughing hysterically at the overthought text messages, and panic when I hadn't replied right away.

I thought this boy was smooth, but I was clearly very mistaken.

I decided to send back a simple text so he wouldn't get all nervous or worked up again, telling him I had fun too and would like to hang out again sometime soon. I even told him to come say hi and ended it with a smiley face.

After the night we had I came back home feeling better than I thought I would. I've never really opened up to anybody like that before, because there's not many people I could really talk to.

Nobody ever seems to care, and the only friends I have don't consider me a friend until I show up with a few bottles or psychedelic drugs.

Not even five minutes pass before my phone started buzzing again, a text message from Harry, saying he would 'definitely see me soon' which only made me blush like a child.

"What are you so happy about?" my father speaks up, making me jump as I get startled, not even sure as to how he got in here so quietly without me hearing him.

"Nothing, I just saw this post on Instagram, it's really nothing important" I explain, choosing to not argue so we don't have to repeat what happened yesterday.

I feel his eyes staring at me and all I want to do is run and jump out of my window, praying Aladdin will catch me on his magic carpet, but it's been nineteen years and nobody's saved me yet, so why would he.