My name is Delilah Mae Johnson. Most people think i have a perfect life, but i don't. Even though my parents are rich -as in if money were dirt, they'd be filthy- im unliked, unloved, and unworthy of the family name. See, unlike my sister, im not a preppy, pink wearing, boyband loving, girly girl. I am an emo, black wearing, rock band loving, punk girl.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My mom hit me again. I waited until they all went to the movies. Then i snuck out grabbing $500 out of the safe, my phone that is supposed to be mine but never is, and my beats. I then walked out the door and didn't look back. I was walking to Starbucks and ran into this guy. Of course i wasn't paying any attention. "Im sorry wasn't paying attention." I muttered. "No it was my fault. My friends are driving me insane. You need a hand?" He offered me a hand up. I hope he didn't see.
<Luke's P.O.V.>
I saw the bruises on her arms. But the one that hit me the most was the big one on her stomach. Like she'd been hit with a baseball bat.
<Delilah's P.O.V.>
"This'll sound weird but wanna grab a coffee and maybe exchange stories?"
"I ain't got anything better to do."
So we walked into starbucks and sat there over a latte swapping stories like lifelong friends.
YOU ARE READING
The One Who Heals Me
FanfictionDelilah Mae Johnson. Long sleeves and jeans hide the scars and bruises. Then she meets her savior, her Prince Charming, her key out of the abuse. And he happens to be a famous punk rocker
