Day 6        Charlotte POV            (December 22nd 2013)

The little girl is skipping down the street, her lunch box swinging in her left hand. The sun is high up in the sky, the clouds are nowhere to be seen. The girl with the purple skirt is on her way home from school. She gets distracted by a prowling cat as it walks by her. It ducks into a big green bush in her front yard. The little girl grins and follows it.

She never notices the red pickup in the driveway.

The kitty runs away as she nears the front porch. The girl gives up her chase and jumps up the three big stairs. She catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror as she walks inside the house. She’s wearing one of her prettiest shirts. She smiles into her reflection: satisfied with her day at school. Her teacher Mr. Mellark had paired her and Jasper together in PE. A little girl at recess told her she looked very good-looking today. The door clinks closed and she fixes her braid by tugging on the end. The little white bow was crooked.

“Where’s your mother?”                                                     

Her father’s voice jerks her head to the kitchen. The smile she was wearing falls from her face. She sees the scary man leaning up against the fridge. He has a half empty glass on the peeling countertop. His daughter didn’t know he was home. If she had, she would have never walked inside.

“She’s not here,” The little girl’s singsong voice answers. But inside her chest her heart is beating nervously.

“Where the hell is she?”

“Gone,” She answers timidly. She crosses her arms over her chest. Glitter from the big pink heart on the shirt sticks to her sweaty skin.

“Of course she is,” The father mumbles. He picks up his cup and chugs the last bit of his drink. And then in a fit of rage he crashes it against the counter. The little girl shutters as it breaks into a million little shards of glass.

“She took my money!” He slurs his words. The girl notices how red his eyes are. “I’m going to kill that fucking bitch when she gets home.” He starts to stumble to his bedroom door. Clumsily, he twirls to his daughter on his heel. “Just you wait and see,” He tells her with a pointed finger.

The little girl knows that her father always goes through on his threats.

She starts to panic.

Never before has she heard him threaten to kill anyone before.

She doesn’t want her momma to die.

“I took your money,” She says quickly.

Her father stops in his path.

“You took my money?” He asked slowly, like he was talking to a stupid little baby.

The girl gulped nervously. But she couldn’t back out now. “I took your money.”

“From my wallet? You just took one hundred dollars from my pocket?”

She nodded, even though it was a lie. She knew that he had spent the money himself. Her father would get drunk and spend all of his money and never even remember doing it the next morning. It had happened many times before.

“You’re even stupider than I thought,” He laughs cruelly. “Dumb bitches.” His eyes grow dark and mean. She knows what’s coming next.

Her father starts to walk towards her.

She knows she’s going to get hurt. But her Sketchers stay planted on the dingy carpet bravely. She knows her mother should be home anytime. She wants to get it over with as fast as she can. He could get it out of his system before her mom got there. That way she would be safe.

But the girl doesn’t understand how serious her father is this time.

Not until she sees the reflection of fluorescent lights in his sharp blade.

Her breath hitches.

She bites down on her bottom lip.

“I’ve warned you,” He says in his awful voice. His much too handsome face leans down to sit in front of his daughter’s. She can see the sweat beads on his forehead. “I’ve warned you so damn many times.”

“I’m sorry,” The girl tells him. Her spirit is shaking the same way her legs are. Her purple skirt brushes against her bare skin as her legs threaten to break down under her light weight.

“No.”

His two chocolate brown eyes stare into hers. She avoids his gaze by looking at the TV behind him. Her favorite movie is on. She tries to distract herself by watching Belle and the Beast dance in the ballroom.

A huge hand grips her tiny shoulder. He hits her first, across the cheek maybe. Then he pushes her weak body against a wall.

A clock shakes then falls from a bookshelf.

She cringes as she watches the knife head for the underside of her chin, almost her neck. Her heart is pounding in her chest. There’s a slight prick feeling first. As the pain grows she sees her blood drip to the floor.

Then the girl feels nothing.

She can’t breathe.

She can’t stand on her feet any longer.

She can’t hear Princess Belle singing on her TV set.

She can’t taste the warm metallic blood that’s pooling on the floor near the corners of her mouth.

She can’t smell her mother’s perfume as she comes running into the room.

She can’t form any thoughts.

She can’t see her father run to hide.

She can’t understand the fact that she’s practically dead.

 ****************************************************************************************

Niall POV

I was deep asleep. My head was rested on my arm. My legs were sitting next to Louis’ on the hard cement ground. The fact that we were in any sort have danger had slipped my mind, my thoughts wandering to other things. Like Christmas and concerts in Times Square.

Until Charlotte started to scream.

I woke up to a start.

I’d never heard anything so blood curdling.

My legs and arms flailed as I tried to find her in the dark. Harry’s jetting figure could be seen darting to her side. He tried to wake her from her nightmares by lightly rocking her shoulders.

I got up on my feet and ran like hell.

Charlotte shouted louder as Harry held onto her. She cried. Tears fell from her closed eyes like rain.

I pushed Hazza aside. Zayn sidestepped from my path. He looked down at Charlotte pitifully.

“Charlotte,” I said softly. My insides were breaking at the sight of her like that. I just held onto her writs tightly, keeping her at arm’s length. I kept my voice steady as I soothed, “Charlotte, wake up. It’s okay, it’s just a dream.”

She had nightmares before. And I knew what they were all about.

Her screams quieted down to words. She rambled aimlessly, fear drenching every word.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Charlotte said- her voice cracking.

“It’s me honey,” I said hopelessly. “It’s Niall.”

“I’m dying,” She cried. Her face was defeated; her porcelain cheeks were stained red with tears.

My heart shattered into about a zillion pieces.

Dammit, if only she would just open her eyes.

“You’re okay, you’re okay darling.”

“Don’t hurt me, please, please, please-”

I tried not to scream or cry myself. “Charlotte it’s me! Wake up please. Wake up for me, Princess.”

Her raging breaths were loud, but her voice went quiet. Slowly, her eyes opened up to look into mine. I let out a sigh.

“Niall?” She squeaked.

“It’s me baby,” I tried to say with a smile. My face wouldn't allow it and I could only manage not to shed a tear.

“Niall,” Her voice broke. She crumbled into my arms. Her entire body trembled. Tears didn’t leave her eyes, but sobs were coming in between words. “Niall- Niall- I’m sorry.”

I held onto the back of her head. “You didn’t do anything, love.” I pressed my lips against her forehead. Her skin was soft and hot.

“He’s trying to kill me,” Charlotte mumbled.

I held her tighter. “I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you.”

“Niall…”

“It was just a dream, sweetheart. He can’t hurt you.”

Charlotte nodded slowly, her face up in the crook of my neck. I felt her hot breaths shakily start to even out as she finally woke up. Her stiff arms wound around my back. Her clenched fists opened up. She sprawled her fingers along the soft cotton of my shirt.

“I’m okay,” Charlotte finally said.

I smiled sadly. “I know you are.”

“It was just a dream,” She muttered, trying to convince herself of all people.

“Mhmm.”

“He’s dead,” Charlotte said with a swallow. “He died. In a hospital.”

I nodded slightly, my cheek rubbing against hers. I took a deep breath of the cinnamon scent that lingered on her pink shirt. Charlotte made a whining noise at the back of her throat. She cuddled closer to me as I rocked her back and forth.

I glanced up above her dark hair. Harry, Louis, Zayn, and Liam were all staring on with wide but tired eyes. Louis mouthed, holy shit.

I gave an agreeing nod.

Harry looked down at his watch. As he read the early morning time he sighed. Then he ran a hand through his hair, sitting himself down on the ground next to the tied up Li. The others followed suit. Pretty soon it was just Charlotte and I beside the door. Everyone else made quiet conversation to try and give the room some levity.

Charlotte sat back on my lap a bit. She made a tired moan, running her hands through her unbraided hair.

I traced my hand up and down her bare arm. “How you doing, love?” I asked quietly.

Charlotte gave me a tired smile. “I’m fine,” my sweet girl said.

I watched on while she rubbed away at her eyes. “Do you wanna talk about it?” I waited until she peered at me to say, “It might make you feel better.”

Charlotte gently rocked her teeth back and forth on her bottom lip in consideration. Her dark eyes avoided my face to stare at the floor.

I waited.

She said with a slight shrug, “I haven’t ever talked about it before.”

But she had told me everything else. All of those things about growing up, all of the stories that made her cry. She told me all of it.

So this memory was painfully different.

I ran both of my hands through her hair, my fingers barely touching at the back of her head. I looked into her tear brimmed eyes and said, “You can tell me anything.”

The small smile that played on her lips told me she already knew that.

With a tiny nod of her head she said, “Okay Niall.”

My eyes flickered around her face. I waited for her pink lips to say something.

Charlotte’s shaky voice started, “I was so little… but I remember everything.” Her jaw was set tight. “He tried to kill me. My dad tried to kill me over a hundred bucks.”

I fought against the rage and repugnance that was building up inside of me.

“With a knife,” She said. “And I never told anyone.” Charlotte gave her head a hard shake. Her dark strands of hair fell down her shoulders. “He was insane. He was so freaking cruel… and I was so stupid.”

I shut my eyes and shook my head. “Don’t say that,” I said quietly.

“My head hit the wall. I was in the hospital for months… I couldn’t even recall my own name. And when I finally remembered what happened it was too late. Dad had everyone convinced otherwise,” Charlotte went on. “He just made something up. I just went along with it.”

I looked down at her clenched fists silently.

“I was so naïve. I lied to those doctors: I told them it wasn’t him. Because dad told me too. And my mom?” She winced at the memories before saying, “I lied to her too.”

I gritted my teeth.

“I was so scared,” Charlotte whimpered. “…I still am.”

And as much as it pained me: I knew there was nothing I could do about that.

That bastard was going to haunt her forever.

I pulled her to my chest. She curled up against me.

“You’re safe now,” I told her.

I felt her head give a soft shake against me. “No… we aren’t.”

And as I looked around that cement prison, I knew she was right.