Matt has let me stay in his sister bed. She moved out when she met a new guy last year.

He has also let me borrow some of his clothes since she didn't leave any clothes behind.

I crawl into the soft sheets and lay there in one of his pajama shirts and bottoms. They are too big for me, but I find his smell comforting.

It really took my mind off of the events of earlier when we watched a film together. It's been ages since I enjoyed myself like that.

With a contended sigh, I sink into the covers and nod off. I am safe, and warm and I have a decent meal in my stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sit bolt up right and scream. Quickly I try and calm myself down but the tears come. It was just a dream! I try to tell myself.

Suddenly the light turns on and Matt runs over to me. "Jess, what's wrong?" He asks, his voice full of worry.

"Nothing. It was just a dream. I'm fine." I say as I try and stop my racing heart beat. You'd think I'd be used to them. It's not like I don't have them every night.

"No you're not." He whispers and climbs onto the bed next to me and holds me against him. "Don't worry. Go back to sleep, I'll stay with you." Matt's strong but reassuring hand strokes the back of my head and I calm down as I listen to his soothing voice.

I nod off again as he holds me. "You're safe." He mumbles and something about his voice just makes me feel so relaxed and secure.

The next time I wake up, it's the morning. It's dawn precisely, and I notice I'm still in Matt's arms, against his bare chest.

Matt's abs are to die for and his skin is not too pale, but not overly tanned. I let my head fall back on him.

I slept so well with Matt holding me. Barley even moved. A loud yawn erupts from Matt and it makes me grin.

"Enjoying the view?" He chuckles making his body vibrate against mine. Laughing, I slap him gently and sit up.

"Of course not." He must know I'm lying because a huge, crimson blush spreads across my cheeks.

Matt crawls out of bed and goes straight to the shower. He's obviously a morning person. I throw on the clothes I had on yesterday and run my fingers through my hair. After I make my bed, I go and find Matt.

When I get down stairs, Matt is already there in a white shirt and black pants. His black tie and blazer are next to him while he flicks through the news on his phone. I wonder what his job is. He looks tired and slouches in his seat, but his blue eyes are still piercing and beautiful.

"I have to go home, Matt." I say and that gets his attention.

"You're not safe there." He tries to say, calmly but his eyes tell a different story. Why does he care? He only met me yesterday.

"I'll be OK. Anyway, it's half five. They'll be asleep. I have school too. I'm not going to be at home for very long." I reassure him.

"OK..." He says, still clearly not happy. "But here's my number. Call me if you need help. I'll be there in two minutes, max ." Matt scrawls a number on a piece of paper. I smile and hug him out of appreciation.

He returns the hug before I slip my shoes on and run out the house and around the corner to my own. I can feel his eyes on me until I'm out of sight.

As I slowly push the door open, I poke my head round. As quietly as possible, I step in. I turn back around after closing the front door I have to top myself from screaming.

My father is stood so close to me that I can feel his breath on my face. An evil smile plays on his dry lips.

His eyes have a taunting gleam in them as he looks at my stitches. "Did you tell him that I hit you last night?!" He growls, I know he's talking about Matt.

"No! Of course I didn't!" I lie quickly. Praying he doesn't hear my voice crack. But he does. Quickly, he raises his hand and brings it back down sharply on the side of my face,right where my stitches are holding my cut together. My eyes start to water as I flinch back and intense stinging shoots through my face.

I turn and run up the stairs to my bedroom and slam the door shut, ignoring my father's angry shouts. Curling up on my bed, I hide my sore face. Why are my parents like this? I question myself. Have I done something to deserve this?

Dragging myself to my feet, I begin to peel my clothes of as I walk to my en-suit. My parents gave me this room when they liked me. All I want is to know why they turned on me. It would make it easier to handle if I knew their reason. Yes, my grandma did die but, is that a reason to treat your own child like this?

After spending half and hour in the shower then thirty minutes trying to calm my mop I like to call hair down, it is seven. Opening my wardrobe, I retrieve some clothes.

I put on a dark floral dress and my black leather jacket. Then I added some black slip on shoes. When I look in the mirror, a girl with dark hair and eyes looks back at me. My hair bounces down to just past my shoulders.

Grabbing my bag, I start to walk downstairs and keep my head down. The beatings are getting worse. I was so grateful when I managed to escape without my parents trying to talk to me.

Pulling my phone out my pocket, I notice I have a missed call from Mia. My best friend. She knows about my parents. I raise my phone to my ear as I call her back.

"GOOD MORNING!" Shouts Mia down the phone and I recoil from the sudden noise with a chuckle. No matter how I'm feeling, she can make me smile

"How are you?" I ask, still laughing.

"I'm fine and dandy, Jess. How was last night?" I know what she's getting at. Images of spending the night in Matt's arms fill my head. The sense of security and safety.

Finally, I settle on an answer. "It was different." I reply.