♡ chapter 1 – Rose ♡

            My body slammed into the firm wall, my sides aching as the pain increased. He was angry over something miraculously secretive, something he didn’t bother to explain. But explaining wasn’t necessary when he had fists, when he had legs, when he had strength. He could use each of his advantages to their best ability when it came to letting out anger, and that’s exactly what he chose to do tonight. I just always seem to be the perfect punching bag for him to land his hits.

            But as he took another large swig of his beer before backhanding me across the face, I knew that tonight was time. Time to finally set myself free from this incessant, brutal abuse. I had no reason to live under these conditions, and I was determined to find that one parental figure I hoped would explain why she left in the first place.

            My mother.

            He never likes talking about her, so I know to never bring her up. All he’s informed me of is her departure and it happened when I was four. I can understand why she ran off if he was this bad when she were still here, but why would she leave her daughter to take the hits and punches? Why would she leave me here to suffer?

            Why didn’t she want me?

            “Fucking slut always getting in my damn way. Make yourself fucking useful and clean the house or some shit,” he hissed at me before knocking me to the ground once more, then he stormed up the steps with his six pack in hand.

            I waited until I heard his door slam before I sprinted to my bedroom in the basement. Apparently I took up too much space to live in the actual home, so I was kicked down to the basement at the age of six. Nightmares? Oh well, get over it. Too cold? Oh well, find more blankets. Lonely? Oh well, get some friends. At the age of eight, I finally grew the sense to stop asking him for things. Through his eyes, minors are supposed to fend for themselves. I guess he never comprehended the fact that children under ten were still learning and needed help in most things they did. My dyslexia for example, but apparently I’m just “faking” it for “attention.”

            Yanking my already packed duffel bag out of my closet, I fumbled in the top drawer of my dresser for the five hundred dollars I’ve been saving. The diner down the street only pays you so much for night shifts, and not many people are willing to take in a twenty year old that can hardly read and write. I never got help for it, and school was never in his budget. Another “pointless” thing through his eyes; education.

            I’m not saying I’m dumb, though. I actually taught myself multiple things from the little resources I could find in limited internet of this house. Whenever he was at work, I’d sneak onto the computer and indulge as much information as possible. But I still wasn’t able to get a decent job due to my lack of proper schooling.

            “Shit,” I muttered as I stubbed my toe against my bed. The frame had broken months ago, but he never cared enough to fix it, and I was saving my money for this moment exactly. I could live with sleeping on a bare mattress, but hopefully I could find some place to say for a little while. A shitty motel will even be better than this.

            Double checking to make sure I had everything I needed it, I trudged back up the steps and looked both ways when I came to the top. Snoring was audible from upstairs, and I rolled my eyes at his obnoxiousness. But I was used to it, and I was also on a mission, so I brushed it off.

            Tiptoeing towards the front door still seemed safer than running, so I did just that. It took at least five minutes to get all the way to the front door, and I clicked it open as silently as I could. I didn’t bother leaving him a note; he wouldn’t care. So with that thought out of the way, I gingerly closed the wood behind me.

            The smile creeping onto my lips was probably vibrant enough to account as a star in the sky as realization hit me.

            I’m finally free.

***

            Paranoia is a bitch.

            The entire time I’ve been walking, I repeatedly glance over my shoulder as if someone were watching me. I had to be careful, though, because I’ve heard of the evil things that tend to lurk in the shadows at night. We aren’t one of those “normal” societies where rapid dogs are your only fear. No; we worry about witches.

            White Witches are the good guys, the nicer and gentler ones. Black Witches are sometimes referred to as “the Devil’s accomplices” with their wicked spells and dark magic. When one is spotted by a Hunter, they’re instantly taken into custody if not killed on the spot. I don’t know much about them, though, considering I’ve never been more than five feet out of the house, so I can only pray I don’t encounter one.

            I’d be scared shitless without a clue of what to do.

            I was currently ducking under branches at this point, the woods growing darker by the moment. It seemed to be the best escape route from the house, also the trickiest in case he were to come after me. This way I had the upper hand with multiple hiding places for coverage.

            A branch snapped behind me, instantly causing my feet to stop working as I jerked my head over my shoulder. A faint light was glowing, but as I squinted, I realized it was a mere firefly.

            Breathe, Rose.

            Don’t back out now.

            But I knew backing out wouldn’t be an option, anyway. I’d rather face a hungry cougar than return to that hellhole of a house. Jumping off a cliff into a ring of flesh eating sharks even sounds more appealing that turning back and going home.

            “Who are you?” the deep voice startled me as I turned back around to my previous position, but my throat was closing up.

            My hands flew to my neck as I struggled to breathe, the boy in front of me looking no older than I was. A mop of brown hair sat atop his eyes, piercing green eyes that only narrowed the longer he stared at me. Each time he pointed his gaze, my throat tightened a little more. At this point, I had fallen to my knees.

            “Are you a Hunter with the Council?” he questioned again as he took a step towards me.

            “P-please,” I croaked, my heart erratically thumping against my chest.

            “Answer me.”

            “N-no,” I struggled out, even making the effort to shake my head. “I s-swear.”

            The boy furrowed his eyebrows, but his eyes looked away from me and to the sky. The air rushed back into my lungs, causing me to inhale a deep breath through my mouth audibly as I hunched over to gain my composure. My heart gradually paced itself, my breathing becoming easier and more fluent as I stayed hunched over.

            “You’re lucky I can tell you were speaking the truth,” he said as he looked at me once more.

            “How the hell did you expect me to answer when you were choking me?” I spat angrily, standing to my feet and situating my bag on my shoulder. “And why the hell are you British in America?”

            The boy rolled his eyes. “It’s called traveling. And if you would’ve answered me the first time, you wouldn’t have gotten choked.”

            “You didn’t give me the chance!”

            “Fuck, you talk too loud.” He groaned as he rubbed his temples. “I’m right here, there’s no need to yell.”

            Huffing, my blood was already boiling. “There’s no need to be annoying and violent towards someone you don’t know.”

            “When you’re a widely wanted person, it’s smart to be cautious,” he said, but he still sounded exasperated, as if I had caused him a hard time. His eyes met mine again, a small smirk tugging at his pink lips.

            “What?” I snapped, far too aggravated to continue this conversation. I had already made the assumption he’s a witch with that idiotic power he pulled not even five minutes ago, so all I wanted to do was get as far away from him as possible. Not only was he irritating, but he was clearly dangerous.

            “Lighten up a bit, Rosalie.”

            My lips parted, but his only stretched into a cocky sneer. “H-how do you know my name?” I asked in disbelief.

            The boy folded his arms across his chest, shrugging. “I can tell a lot about a person by looking them in the eye. A special gift I have, I guess.” He met my gaze once more, and as much as I wanted to pull away, this weird force kept me from doing so. The boy’s smirk slowly faded and a look of pity washed over his face. “You’ve been abused your whole life by your father.”

            This time I managed to snatch my face away, looking towards the ground. “That’s none of your business,” I muttered.

            I could feel his eyes were still on me as he said, “This little fact is actually keeping me from killing you, so enough with the sassiness.”

            Furrowing my eyebrows, I peeked up at him.

            He sighed, raking a hand through his thick hair. “Look, I know what it’s like to be tortured, all right? I also know what it’s like to have nowhere to go, and you’re clearly in that situation right now.”

            “Are you actually trying to be genuine right now?” I asked, cocking a brow.

            The smirk returned. “Genuine isn’t a word most people use to describe me.”

            “Well, if you don’t kill me, I’ll consider you as genuine,” I said sarcastically as I held his stare.

            “Fair enough.” He grinned. “I guess you can tag along with me, but you’ve gotta keep that voice of yours to a lower volume. You don’t have to scream at someone within five feet of them.”

            “You’re an asshole, you know that?” I grumbled under my breath as I situated the strap of my bag on my shoulder.

            He smirked. “An asshole giving you a chance to live. So do we have a deal? You keep that mouth shut and I’ll let you join my adventure.”

            “That sounded sarcastic,” I mumbled, raising an eyebrow at him but he just shrugged with that same smirk I wanted to slap off his face. Huffing, he had a point about me having nowhere else to go. That was the main thing that made me say, “Fine, we’ve got a deal.”

            His cocky smirk stretched. “Good choice. If you didn’t agree, I might’ve killed you just in case you wanted to go back to town and run that mouth of yours.”

            “Can I make a rule of my own?” I groaned in annoyance.

            “Depends on the rule.”

            “How about you try something new and, oh, I don’t know… be nice.”

            He grinned, licking his lips before pressing them into a thin line. “I’m not too familiar with that word, love. Perhaps you could fetch me a dictionary?”

            “One, I’m not a dog and I don’t fetch. Two, being a smartass is a good example of how not to be nice. So maybe you could start from there,” I said.

            “Look, Rosalie. If you’re going to tag along with me for God knows how long, that doesn’t give you the privilege to dictate me. I’m a smartass, yeah, I know. But that doesn’t mean I’m about to change because I ‘hurt your feelings.’ So build a bridge and get the fuck over it. Kapeesh?”

            Chewing the inside of my cheek, I pondered on this whole shebang I was about to get myself into. I could always walk away and be on my own, but if this kid is out here and dangerous, who knows how many other ones there are? I could put my life at risk by walking away, and I’m not saying he’d protect me, but I get the feeling he isn’t one that people tend to mess with. Especially since he nearly killed me on the spot for not answering his question. I don’t think he lets people overrule him by any means.

            “Okay,” I muttered and kicked aimlessly at the ground. “Just don’t be so shallow that you abandon me in the middle of nowhere, please?”

            He smiled, but it was still far from benevolent. “No promises, Rosie.”

            I huffed. “Since you keep using my name and picking nicknames, can I at least have yours to make this even?”

            He thought about it for a moment, then shrugged and crossed his muscular arms over his chest again. “Harry. Harry Styles. Now can we get going? I’m on a tight schedule here.”

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A/N: First chapter, omg! This got more votes than I expected, and I just couldn't wait any longer ^.^ Thank you so much for 1k followers & I love you all so much xx Please leave feedback (active commenters get dedications) Love you all xx

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