#hemmingsofficial

unkindnessofone has a nerdy 5sos pref! 

hemmingsofficial has a 90s Luke that is basically nerdy Luke.

i just followed omg im in love

hemmingsofficial

"Why do you have to go around doing that?" I asked, shoving him backwards.

"Why do you have to go around telling me what to do?" He snapped back, his normally light blue eyes dark with anger. "Why Danielle?" He asked, using my real name. The one I hated.

"Don’t call me Danielle." I growled, stepping closer, even though my small frame was nothing compared to his tall one.

"That’s your name, is it not?" He growled, narrowing his eyes at me, his large hands gripping my wrists tightly, bringing them above my head as he pinned me to the wall.

"The last time I was called Danielle, my mom was being held at gun point." I said, my eyes wide as I forced the tears back. I could hear her now, screaming my name as she was held at gun point by his father. "And it’s your dad’s fault." I growl.

"No, it’s not. You were the one who began all this." He whispered into my ear, causing shivers to run down my back.

"What do you mean it’s my fault?" I whispered, my eyes looking at his, and a tear fell. Only one tear, as I forced the others back. I promised to never cry. At least, not in front of him.

"You walked into my life, and made it a living hell." He growled, letting my hands go and punching the wall. His fist wasn’t even an inch away from my face, and I didn’t flinch. I was used to this. "You had to just waltz into my life and steal my heart." He growled, and then there was a hideous beeping noise.

I woke up to my alarm clock going off, and a man waking me up, and telling me to get ready for school. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and groaning to myself, standing up and walking to my closet, grabbing my clothes for the day. A pair of black skinny jeans, a baggy black shirt, and my black converse, and sighed, looking in the mirror as i brushed my blonde hair. “First day, and you’ll be late!” The man  yelled. 

I remembered what happened not even a year ago. My mom had me at work with her, as she needed some help, and I had always been her little helper. I remember her answering the door as I organized her files, humming softly. I heard some low voices, and when I looked up, there was a man, with blonde hair, and blue eyes standing in my mom’s office. He had pulled a gun, a revolver I believe, and had it pointed at her. My mom was yelling at me to do something, but I don’t know what it was, because I was focused on the gun. I heard a bang, and I looked at my mom, who was on the floor, in a pool of her own blood, a hole right in the middle of her forehead. The man grabbed my wrist, and dragged me to the door. He was talking, but I didn’t hear him. My mom was dead. Gone. For ever. What did I do to deserve this? I felt the grasp on my arm tighten, bringing me back to reality. He explained that I was to do as he said or else. He was scary, so I agreed. 

I heard a shout from the bathroom, forcing me into reality. I heard my name, and I sighed, walking out of my room. “Sorry sir.” I said, pulling my hair into a pony tail as he told me to grab my school bag, and get in the car. I was going to school. I nodded, and grabbed the bag, which was white. A nice contrast to all this black I was wearing today. I walked out the door, and messed with my bracelet, the one that had a tracker. I found out that I was a slave, mostly to clean the house, since he wouldn’t touch me and my innocence until I was an adult. I’m only 15.

My captor got into the car. I never learnt his name. I didn’t need to know his name. I was to only ever call him ‘Sir’. I was fine with that. As he began the long drive to my new school, he was talking. But I wasn’t paying attention. I never did. I couldn’t care to pay attention. “Sir, it’s the one year anniversary.” I said softly, looking at him. I knew he didn’t truly care, but I needed to remind him. It was my job to remind him these things.

"I know. Did you hear what I said? Blend in, don’t draw attention, and stay away from Luke." He said, using his son’s name. I didn’t get the whole deal with this. "If I find out that you are disobeying my rules, you will be punished." He said, his voice a monotone. 

"Yes Sir." I said, looking out the window. I knew what he meant by punishing me. It wasn’t easy, or fun. I got locked up in a room, left to his son. His son, Luke, when he was angry, was not someone to mess with. And when ever I was punished, Luke was angry. Luke was angry all the time though. Luke would hand-cuff my hands to a bar that was above my head, and because I was so short, he’d put a stool under me so I didn’t break my wrist. Then he’d grab the whip, knife, or anything, and use it against my skin, ripping it, slicing it, damaging it. I learned quickly after two days of this torture not to do anything bad. Because the punishments would get worse. 

"Good. Should anyone ask about the bracelet, just say it was a gift." He said. I looked at him confused, and I guess he knew that. "If they know what it is, you’ll get taken away from this house, and put into the orphanage, sold to who ever would buy you." He explained. "And I won’t be able to buy you back. But the person who does will be ten times worse." He said, turning into the parking lot.

"Okay Sir. Have a good day Sir." I said, grabbing my bag as I got out of the car, and made my way to the school, taking a deep breath, and walking in slowly. I saw Luke, and I steered clear of him, making sure I wouldn’t see him.

Now, you know my life. Kidnapped at 14, and forced to be a slave. Not a sex slave, though there are quite a few of those in the house. At least I had a place to stay.

hemmingsofficial and daddyyirwin