27 Tattoos

The rest of the school day was a blur; all you could think of was that twat, Harry Styles. How dare he saunter in and tell everyone to back off you. You probably weren’t going to have any friends now; everyone was too scared of Harry and his crew. You found out today that the purple haired girl was called Perrie, she was the boy called Zayn’s girlfriend. Zayn was the dark skinned beauty. He may be one of those arrogant pricks that hung around with Harry but he was gorgeous, all of them were. The blonde one was called Niall, he was Irish and the brown haired, blue eyed boy was Louis. Louis was Harry’s best mate. But that doesn’t matter; you heard a lot of bad things about these boys from the rest of the students who now pity you as your Harry’s latest victim.

Speaking of Harry you hadn’t seen him for the rest of the day, which was good, you thought to yourself. Your form teacher wanted to keep you behind for a while after school to explain everything about the school’s curriculum, she kept you there until half 7. It’s not that you didn’t want to have this meeting with her but it was pitch black outside and you didn’t know your way around Holmes Chapel at all.

You walked out of the school building, the cold British air slapping you in the face, and made your way home, well, sort of. You took twists and turns and eventually you had been walking around for over an hour. Your mum wouldn’t be home until gone 11 so there was no use phoning her. It’s fair to say that Holmes Chapel has a few, not-so-nice areas and you managed to get yourself into one. Not to sound snobby but you lived in the, you could say, ‘rich’ part of town where you could leave your door open for months and literally nothing would be taken from your home. You’re not so sure you can say the same thing about this place.

You end up in an alley way, your heart is beating and your palms are sweating. You don’t like it here at all, it makes you nervous. All of a sudden a figure comes out from one of the houses in the alley and looks at you, his face forms a grin.

“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing out here at this time?” he questions with a grin. You tried to run but the stranger clamped on your wrists with his clammy hands.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” he looks down at me. I remain silent, pressing my lips together trying not to whimper at the harsh grasp he had on my wrists.

“Are you going to answer my question?” he says, pushing you against the brick wall, he smelt of alcohol and cheap tobacco, “or am I going to have to force it out of you?” he questions with an evil look in his eyes. His hand travels up your thigh.

“(Y/N), my name is (Y/N)!” You yell, “You got what you wanted, now let me go.” You demand.

“And what makes you think that that is all I wanted?” The stranger smirks at you, one of his hands pinning your arms above your head, the other creeping up your thigh.

“Please, stop.” You whispered. He laughed and harshly pressed his lips onto yours, his tongue being forced into your mouth and down your throat. You screamed but it’s muffled by his mouth on yours, you try to slither out of his grasp but it’s no use. He starts to lift up your skirt, making his way to you underwear. You feel tears streaming down your face. Is this really how you’re going to lose your virginity? To a rapist in an alley way? You move your head side to side and manage to free from his kiss.

“HELP! HELP ME! HELP ME PLEASE!” You yell at the top of your lungs. The stranger looks down at you with dark eyes.

“You’re going to regret you did that, bitch.” He said with no mercy whatsoever in his tone. In one swift movement he rips your shirt open, exposing your chest. His lips once again clamp onto yours, his hand returning to its previous position up your skirt. Suddenly, you can’t feel his presence. His hands no longer groping you, is clammy hands no longer clamped onto your wrists, his lips longer against yours. You open your eyes to see him on the floor wiping blood from his nose, yelling in pain. You turn around to see and tall boy with curly hair, glaring down at your predator.

“What. The. Fuck. Do you think you're doing, Stan?” The boy said through gritted teeth, as soon as he spoke, you recognised his voice. It was Harry. Harry Styles had just saved you from getting raped. The now named stranger, Stan, stood up and glared at Harry.

“What are you doing here Styles?” He spat.

“Getting what’s mine.” He said, a menacing look in his eye. If only looks could kill, they would both be dead a million times over.

“Oh and I suppose you think she’s yours?”

“She is. Now, get the fuck away from her.” Harry spat.

“You know Styles, you can’t just come around here and claim every whore you want to fuck as your own, you have to leave the rest of us some as well.” He replied with a smirk.

“You can have the rest,” Harry started, “but not her.”

“Whatever…” Stan murmured, and turned to you. “Goodbye, beautiful.” He said with a wink and caressed your cheek. He went flying. Harry had punched him. Harry leaned over Stan and started punching him in the gut.

“I SAID STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER YOU WORTHLESS PRICK!” He yelled as he kicked Stan. You pulled your top up and run over to them.

“HARRY STOP! STOP IT HARRY YOU’RE GOUNG TO KILL HIM!” You yelled, tears in your eyes. Harry looked at you and stopped.

“Consider yourself lucky, Stan. But if you ever go near her again, I will kill you. I promise.” Harry spat then kicked him a final time in the stomach, which earned a large moan off Stan. Harry looked at you, guilt in his eyes. Why would he be guilty?

“I should have waited for you after school. I knew something would happen!” he half yelled at himself.

“Why would you need to wait for me, I can take care of myself!” You retorted.

“Yes clearly, that’s why if I hadn’t of come along you probably would have been raped by now.” He snorted. You couldn’t believe him, he was so arrogant.

“Yeah well maybe you should have just let him rape me, cause I’m not going to be one of your whores, Harry.”

“Excuse me?” he questioned.

“You heard me. Don’t think I haven’t heard all about you, Harry Styles. Bad boy, fucks the girls, does drugs, smokes, gets pissed every other day and is in a gang. Yeah I know all about you and I’d rather not get mixed up in all your bullshit.” You spat. He walked over to you so he was pressed against your chest and looked down at you with dark eyes.

“You know nothing about me.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, well let’s keep it that way cause I’m sure as hell not sticking around to get to know you.” He laughed.

“You know what. Fuck this. I’ve just saved you and all you can do is judge me. You don’t know me and you don’t know what I’ve been through. I know your kind. You think you can just judge people because you think you’re better than them. Well, (Y/N) I can guarantee I’ve been through more shit than you, so excuse me if I don’t seem worthy to you.” He said coldly.

“I’m leaving.” You murmur and turn around.

“What so you can get raped again? I don’t think so. I’m driving you home.” He said, grabbing your wrists and dragging you to his car. “Get in.” he says.

“No.” You reply sternly.

“Get. In. The. Car.” He says, anger boiling up inside him. You’ve seen what he’s capable of and honestly it scares you. You do as he says and get in the car. He slams the door shut, which makes you wince. He gets in the driver’s side and starts the engine. The car ride is silent apart from you giving him directions to your house. When you arrive you get out the car without a word, slam the door and storm up to your door, Harry already driving off.

You put the key in the lock and open the door. Your mum isn’t even back yet, surprise, surprise. You run upstairs and strip off, getting in the shower and letting the warm water rub off all the happenings of tonight. You wanted to forget about it all. Forget about the Man. Forget about the incident. Forget about the fight. And most importantly, forget about Harry.