Rosie's POV

The walls are a light blue. The window in the corner let's more light in, and allows the room brighten up. It makes you feel less depressed...or at least I do.

I sit at the edge of the tub, and bounce my foot up and down. The heel of my foot makes a sound against the tiles.

Thump

Thump

Thump

I take my finger nail between my teeth. The sound of rushing water, relaxes me, and I can't help but think of El. I negate my thoughts though, and push them away. To much emotions can sprout.

A small, yet moderate lights hangs. The bulbs are white, making the light bright. It slightly bounces with my foot, and the vibrations make everything shake...lightly.

More and more water pours into the large tub. I sigh and stand up, dreading my appearance, yet I still look. I take out my ponytail, and shake my hair loose. The brown waves fall down my back, dry and knotted.

My brown eyes meet my reflection's. My skin is oily, and pale. Few acne blemishes are spread beneath my lips, in between my eyebrows, and on my forehead. Bags lay beneath my eyes, blue and black, and layer them. I look older then I usually do...and I'm surprised at what I look like.

I travel my face, again, and meet my eyes. I narrow them, and the reflection follows my movements. I start to wonder what I would look like with blue eyes and blonde hair...maybe okay? Maybe bad? I wonder what it would be like if I weren't me. If I didn't exist.

But, I can't go down that road right now. I can't cry...I won't. El wouldn't want me to be like this....a softie like her. She would want me to be tuff...she would want me to be strong.

And that's what I will be.

I grab the shorts, loosely hanging off my waist and let them drop to the floor. The fabric is soft, as it glides down my legs. It falls to the floor, making no sound over the running water, yet the feeling of the article of clothing grazes my skin and makes me shiver.

The wooden border to the mirror is white. It ripples in, and out, in, and, out as my eyes wander to the edge of it. My fingers lift and touch it, wanting to please the urge of feeling it. The wood is smooth and freshly painted. It's cool to the touch.

I look back at the tub and shut it off before it overfills. The tiled floor is cold and slippery.

There, I stand in my undergarments in front of the full length mirror next to the sink. I wonder if it's okay to be this skinny, or this pale, or this cold.

I reach back and unclasp my bra, throwing it with the other clothes. I pull my underwear off and add it to the pile. I don't want to look at myself nude...it'll only make me hate myself more.

I shake with coldness, and turn. As soon as my foot reaches the hot water, my goosebumps are gone. I take another step in and sink down. My brown hair fans out, and spreads in the water as I sink in and lean back. I shut my eyes and focus on sometime that was happy..it will make the pain better.

I replay El and I in my head, and all the good times we had.

---

The towel hanging around my body is dropped as I change. A large pile of clothes lay stacked on my bed, a note on top.


'Thought you might need some, enjoy. ~H'


I smile, and look through the clothes. They're fresh and new...the tagswere left on them still. I pull out shorts and a tank top.

As soon as I slip the tank top over head, I hear shouts down the hall. I pull the shorts up, and run out not caring about the wet towels left.

Harry's nose is red with blood, and a huge black and blue mark surrounds his eye. His jaw is set as he pins Ryan against the wall and punches him in the stomach. His green eyes, full of fire.

Ryan's face is by far, much worse. His eye is bruised and swollen. Blood drips from his nose and cut lip, and a bruise covers his cheek. He leans over and spits out blood as Harry knees him in the stomach.

My eyes are widened a mile, and I stand there in shock. 'Do something!' My mind yells, yet I know I'm not strong enough to pull them apart.

Ryan punches Harry's gut, and he bends over. Ryan shoves him on the floor, and straddles him, throwing punches left and right. Harry coughs, and tries to push Ryan off, but he can't. Ryan kicks his hands down and steps on them with his feet holding them down.

I can't bear to watch Harry get pounded on anymore. I run up to them, not sure of what to do. And before I can actually process anything, I'm on Ryan's back. I wrap my legs around his waist and punch the top of my head, trying to get him off of Harry.

He stands, and Harry rolls over and props himself on his elbows, heaving for air. The sounds of his coughing and choking makes me wince...it's hard to listen too...I can't imagine what it feels like.

Ryan thrashes around, and grips my wrists, flipping me over his head. I land on the floor with a thud and my back hurts like hell. I gasp for air as the wind is knocked out of me.

My head is thrown to the side as a punch connects with my left cheek. I feel warm liquid dripping down my chin, and I know either my lip or jaw is bleeding. My hand lands in my chin, and wipes it away.

As soon as my breath is caught, it's knocked out again. A sharp pain flashes through my stomach, again and again.

I cough and wheeze trying to catch some sort of air. Then, it's over.

I breath in and out and stare at the ceiling. The dark wood and it's patters swirl into each other. Few pieces of my damp hair lay on my face, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Stars flash behind my lids...and then El. Her smile and laugh echoes in my head.

I feel drained and to be honest...beaten. El's bright, brown eyes make my pain feel a thousand times worse then I should.

I open my eyes, and look up. I can feel my lip throbbing, and my stomach is sore. I sit up, and look around. I let out a small groan when I do.

My eyes travel around the whole room. They scan up and down, side to side, and no one is here. No one at all. Is it my imagination?

I huff, and stand on my feet. I feel wobbly and unsteady, but I ignore all the red flags in head telling me to retreat and lay back down....even if it's in the middle of a room on a floor.

Everything is so silent...a pin could drop. I grab a hold of anything I can to balance myself. My feet make a padding sound on the floor, and my head is pounding harder then my heart. I hear whispers coming from the dining room. I slowly and quietly make my way, and peer around the corner. My hair drips slightly, and it hangs beside my face. The floor is cold beneath my feet, and goosebumps cover my arms even though I'm on fire. My arm comes up, and wipes beneath my lips. Blood is left on my skin, and a stinging feeling passes through it as I make contact with it.

My heart beats a thousand miles an hour. My eyes widen, and my hands start to shake. I tightly hold my lips between my teeth to hold in a gasp.

"Give it the fuck up, Styles!" Ryan growls. "It's done! It's 'er or us. And I'm not dying over that thing!"

"You don't know what the fuck you're saying!" Harry responds. He tries to step forward, but Ryan pins him back. I feel like I shouldn't watch, but I can't move...especially after the clicking sound goes off.

"You have five seconds." Ryan says. The tip of the gun presses far into Harry's forehead. "It's you or her."

I back away, my footsteps small and slow. I purse my lips and frantically look for something. Anything.

My eyes lock with the shinning material and the black handle. My hand warps around it. It's smooth and cool...all of it. I contemplate what I'm about to do in my head...but I'm torn..until I hear, "three."

I inch my way back, breathing more rapidly with every step. I don't know of I can do this...any of this. I round the corner again, and tip toe. I'm merely five feet away.

"If you actually think I'm scared of you...than you're stupider than I thought." Harry spits. Ryan drops the gun for a second, and my heart leaps for joy. I hear Ryan chuckle and shake the gun around by his hip. I try and get closer. He waves it out, and almost hits me, I take my lip between my teeth and hold back a cry...or a scream...or both. Ryan rambles on about something, but I'm too nervous to make it out.

I look up, and Harry's watching my every movement. His eyes are narrowed, and his green lock with my brown. They almost look....concerned that I'm here, as he mouths, 'go!'

I narrow my eyes back, and my hand raises. It shakes, but the shining metal of the long, butcher knife gleams form the sunlight from the window. His eyes follow my hand, and widen slightly...almost surprised that I'm holding it.

Ryan stops talking. He's still and tense, the gun at his side. I'm paralyzed and can't move. The knife stays aloft, four inches away from the side of his neck.

As soon as I take in a breath, I see his hand snap forward, then back. The barrel of the gun connects with my cheek, and I scream in pain as I fall to the floor.

I hear the knife drop and slide across the room.

I scream as I feel a shoe press down on my stomach. My eyes shut, and I only see black behind them. My head knows I'm going to die know....but my body feels adrenaline. It pumps me to keep going.

"Might not want to do that." I hear Harry say. An arm wraps around my neck,and forcefully pulls me up. I cough for air, as I feel the grip tightening. It loosens, and my heartbeat increases as I feel smooth metal against my head.

"It's not your choice now, Styles." Ryan chuckles. "It's mine." He says and laughs....hard. "That knife you have won't, no can't, do anything. I suggest just sitting back and watch her brains get blown out."

Notes