Our Tainted Hearts part 1

South side of the town was the place where I was raised. Where old trucks were parked and shoes were hung in the electric pole. In my 15 I have taken care of my ruined family. Parent was the least thing I wanted to call them.They have never tasted me luxes. Still felt grateful for my alcholic mother and abusive father. They beated me everytime they saw me. But still, I loved all the bruises they have given to me. Blaring country music was all I had for every single morning and something stupid to bickered off when the sun set in the west. No tears were remained in my blue eyes. They said my eyes were trying to hypnotize every single person who trying to take a glance to them. I realised that my eyes just hypnotized my parent to beat me and friends to bully me. They said I was beautiful. Beautifully beaten and bullied. I prayed every single night to God so he could put my disturbing friends to hell and waited His holy redemption to bring my sinful parents to the right way so they could see the light and stop beating their only daughter.

"What takes you so long to answer my damn question Rebel?" He yelled.
"Do I have to use speaker every single time I call or ask you? Did you lose your hearing huh?" He added.

They called me Rebel. Such a rebelious name for a silky straight brown haired girl with a birth mark in the back of her neck who barely reach 5'2 ft. Rebel Allison Willis was writen in my birth certificate. I turned 18 a month ago. My parents named me after a hooligan ended in my town. They used to tell me that my name brought hopes. Hope just hope. Hopes were empty if you never put faith in them. False hope just like my parents. No one else to be blamed. I got bullied in school because my low self esteem and my parents didn't raise me right like other child did.
My mom left at night and back in early morning to get a long sleep so her body fueled by energy and back to the club to drink more liquor. My mother has never been a right mother. Her mariage drove her crazy. She found my father cheated with her friends when a party was thrown in my house. Since then she turned into an alcholic and a careless mother.

"My hearing is just fine and I have no freaking idea where you put your cigars! It is no use to touch your damned stuff even throwing it away! lower your voice because it is eight am in the morning you're disturbing the neighbors!" I yelled even louder.
"Suck it off Rebel! You such a big fat liar!" He tried to defense himself.
"I don't know where your cigars are and I didn't throw it away. You should ask your alcholic and iresponsible wife where she put your dammned stuff!" I snorted.

A palm of hand landed on my right cheek left a print of hand in it. My eyes were gleaming but no single tears dropped in my cheek. My heart wasn't pacing back and forth like the first time my dad hit me. I was ready to kick his gut off but I just left him standing. I picked my bag and stormed out of my house.

"Where the hell are you going ungrateful Rebel?" He asked
"To school. Do you get an amnesia too?" I answered.
"You such an ugrateful daugh.."

Before he finished his word I cut him first.

"I'm leaving and take care of your stupid things by yourself." I slammed the door and left the house.

I was prepared to get beat after school. I couldn't even care how bad my father beat me later. New day new fresh bruises. I left the house carresing my cheek so the print wasn't seen later when I arrived in school. I tried to focus on where I step my feet into. Suddenly a big body running through mine made me tripped over my way.

"Are you okay? Let me help you standing" a low but masculine voice reached my little ears.
"I'm fine I can wake on my own" I tried to hold my gruge.
"Next time please watch your step!" I slowly rose from the ground and cleaning my knee.
"I'm sorry. I'll watch my step next time. Probably you should also watch your step too lady." He added.

I rose from the ground. I faced a man who his body hit me. I startled because a nice built body was standing right in front of me. His biceps bulged out of his shirt. After took a little look of his body I turned my head up to see his face. I barely closed my mouth. He's so breathtaking. Was he lost his way to a photoshoot?. His eyes were green where every women could lost in it. His hair was so rich with dirty brown with slight blonde colored. His skin was so well tanned. His jawline was so chisheled and sharp which could cut a silk and also gifted with full lips which unbearlable not to kiss them. He looked like in his twenty. I thought he was a Calvin Klein model or somekind of angel who fell from heaven.

"Did you enjoy the view?" His flirt broke the silence.
"I can barely call it a view." I lied.

What a steep sarcasm. I put my disgusting face on him. He examined me from the tip to toe. But his eyes landed on my right cheek, noticed how red my cheek was. He tried to put his hand on my cheek but I deflected it.

"Are you okay? Did someone slap your face?" He asked eagerly.
"I'm a hundred percent fine. Can you please get out my way ? Im very late to school." I answered with high voice.
"I'm sorry for asking dolcezza." He answered and took a deep look to my face like he had met me before.

I walked leave him behind. I just didn't care about anyting else. My problems in home were enough to stressed me out. I didn't want to tally any problems with a hot stranger who hit me in the middle of the road.

"Dolcezza! Rebel do you remember me?" He sprinted behind me.

I stopped when he called my name. It felt like my heart stuck in my throat. How did this hot stranger know my name. How could I remember him when I didn't even know him. My heart paced and my nerves were ready to send signal to my body to tackle everyone who tried to harm me.

"It is me dolcezza. Rebel I missed you so much!" He hugged me and lifted me of the ground.
"I'm back Rebel." He added.

I frowned when he said he was back. He hugged me as tight as boy's scout rope. It felt so warm. Warm enough to heat my cheek. I blushed like a tomato. I almost hugged him back but I discouraged myself. Why would I hug a stranger.
It was so wrong yet so right. His hug felt so familiar. Who was this guy.... Why he kept calling me dolcezza.