zayn ((((satan)))) malik


Yes. I have a Justin Bieber Tattoo. Most of you know that because the name of my blog. But I don’t just have a JB tattoo because I irrevocably love him, its because he was the one who saved me. when I was in the depths, when I was too broken to go on, he was the one to pick me back up, brush me off, and tell me that everything would be okay. He told me that somebody loved me, that he loved me, even if he didn’t know me. 

My Stepfather started hitting me when I was 8, and every time it happened, it got worse. First a spank, then a spank so hard that I went to school and told my teacher that I couldn’t sit in my seat without it hurting my bottom. Then it turned into Slapping…then hitting that left bruising on somewhere other than my rear end. 

My mom and him weren’t even married yet, but me and my sister were too young to defend ourselves. My sister was only ten. We moved to Araknsas halfway through my third grade year, and my sister ran away for the first time. When our neighbor brought her back, she got punished. and not with words. She started acting out and I played the good child role to try to bring some balance. 

This continued on all the way up into my High School years. I loved school, because it was my escape. I buried myself in sports, which was one more way to have an excuse to not be home.

When I graduated, I went into a leadership program and when that was done, I grudgingly went back home. Then the day came that I will never forget. The day I broke. I was dog-sitting the neighbors’ dogs and stayed the night over at their house(which they told me to do) so the dogs could be out of the kennel. My dad had told me not to spend the night over there, and didn’t give me a reason. He controlled almost everything I did, because thats how he was.

So When he found out that I had spent the night again, he came over to the neighbors house, and walked in the door swinging.

One Hit. 

Two Hits.

How was I supposed to fight off a 250 pound ex-marine? I tried, but he knew how to fight back.

Next thing I knew, his hands were around my neck with his arms pinning mine. I was defensless, and choking. I begged him to let go, to get off, I couldn’t breathe.

That’s the last thing I remember.

I had passed out, and when I became non-responsive, he got even more angry and slammed me into the ground. I woke up in the process of peeing all over myself. I was at the low of lows. I had lost all functions in my body.

My mom kicked him out that night, and when she let him back two weeks later, i left. I became homeless rather than let him hit me. I moved from house to house, not knowing where I was going to be sleeping the next night. It was scary. The only things I had were a backpack full of clothes, and my ipod…Justin Bieber on repeat. 

And for the whole year that I was homeless, the whole year I was scared, alone, terrified, and wishing I was something or somewhere better, Justin’s music got me through it all. Every morning I didn’t want to get up, everytime, I wanted to go home and just take the beatings, I turned on his music and he helped me out. and he is the only who has been there for me like that. 

So when things got better, what did i do? I gave him a tribute, and gave myself a reminder of a thing i will never forget. Everyday I will look down at my wrist, see my tattoo, and thank God that he sent me JB. if I didnt have him, I wouldn’t be alive today. So thank you Justin. I love you. <3

"You still have to squeeze into your jeans, but you're perfect to me"

Zayn Malik → Over Again, Philadelphia (25/6/2013) [x]