BLONDE// Roger Taylor Fan Fic

1 ~ Grounded

(Happy Birthday Freddie Mercury!! We LOVE You!!) BLOOD WARNING FOR CHAPTER!! On with the story...

Everything around me had gone blurry. Oddly enough, everything was just shaded colors of brown to me. I could feel blood trickling down my cheek from my mouth. Every time they kicked again, I'd cough up a big blob of blood, splattering it all over the ground and my clothes. The weird thing was, I couldn't feel anything. My body was numb, but I knew the pain was there. After what seemed like hours, the three men left me, leaving me lying there in the street, up against a building. After a while, my vision started to come back to me. I saw people crowded around the area, staring. Just staring. More people walked by, minding their business. 'How come no one was helping me?' I thought. 'Why doesn't anyone care?' 

Then, I heard shouting. It sounded like someone pushing through the crowd. "What's going on? Wha--" Through the blood and tears, I saw the person stand at the front of the group. They had long blonde hair that flowed down to their shoulders. I couldn't make out any more details. 

The pain started to come back to my body. I yelped in pain, pleading for help. The blonde woman came rushing over. I thought they were my friend, Electra, but I was wrong. It was a guy. He lifted my body off the cold concrete, and cradled me in his arms. His hand was pressured against the knife cut put in my stomach. 

"I-I'm" I tried to speak through the soreness. 

"Shh" He only held me tighter. "Some one get help!" I was scared. What if I died here? I've already lost so much blood. I know that, because I could see it soaking his clothes. I wanted to say I'm sorry. I wanted to say I'm sorry for everything I did when I was young. I couldn't help it, and now I caused this. It's my fault, I was trying to be killed. I've done such terrible things. 

For some weird reason, it hit me then and there. The blonde man. It was Roger Taylor. I choked up more blood at this thought, all over his shirt. Not that Roger was a bad thing. It was just terrible that he had to be the one to help me. ME. I felt even more sorry.

"I'm getting you help. It's all gonna be OK. I promise." He whispered softly. That was the thing, though. I knew it wouldn't be OK. I was either gonna die, or I was gonna go on living in constant fear of my father and those three men. I wish I could go back and fix my childhood. I wish, but I can't.  Roger scooped me up, into his arms, and started walking to the row of cars. "I'm taking you to the nearest hospital." I nearly gagged again. I can't go to the hospital! It's not that I'm afraid, I just don't have the money for that. 

"No!" I tried to say it as loudly as possible, but it was only an aggressive whisper. "Take me t-to Lark's Grocery on Smith Street-t." He looked at me with a face of confusion. He obviously didn't know what that was. I knew the owner there, and their a retired nurse. They'd patch me up, no cost. It was the best place for me. 

"OK. Lark's Grocery it is." He settled me into the passenger seat, and started to drive. My head slumped to the side, out of energy. I nearly fell asleep. 

(OOF!! I know it's bad, I'll try to write better chapters. Sorry. This is the first story I've ever wrote and shared with people...give me feedback if you want to!!)