Her guardian angel (Kylo Ren fanfic)

Chapter one : the first glance

A quick authors note before we get into the story.
I won't do many of these notes but I just wanted to let everyone know that this is the first ever story I'll be writing on Wattpad :)
Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!
I will try to upload as often as I can.
All support will be appreciated xx
Lets's get into the story!

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I open my eyes and groan looking around my room.
The sun is shining through the thin cloth curtain that's hanging in front of the only window in here.
It hits the picture frame on my dresser that's placed on the opposite side of the room.
I look at the picture of my family.
It shows me, my mom and my father but his face is blurred out because of the way the sunlight is hitting it.
It almost looks like it is just my mom and I smiling together.
I turn on my stomach on the bed, burying my face in my pillow and groaning even more.
I feel the side of my face burning from what happened yesterday and just as I was thinking about how badly I just want to go back to sleep so I wouldn't have to face another day
my dad's voice sounds through the house.

He's yelling something I can't quite make out yet while I can hear his footsteps in the hallway coming towards my door with a steady pace.
His voice becomes louder and louder until he barges in the door.
Hearing what he's saying clearly now I jump up from the bed and unconsciously back up while he keeps yelling.
"Get out of bed you lazy gravel maggot, we need to go into town today."
I feel the wall press against my back and I realise I have been slowly backing away.
Not wanting to show him how much power he has over me I straighten myself and speak up, not wanting to anger him even more.
"Yes father, I will get ready straight away."
He huffs at me disgusted and yells "You have 5 minutes and you better be out that door."
He walks out of my room and slams the door behind him.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in until now and sit down on the bed.
I feel tears prickling in my eyes but I swallow, trying to control my emotions.
I cannot cry now, I don't want him to know I'm scared of him.
I touch my palm to the side of my face and close my eyes.
I stand up to grab some clothes from the top drawer of my dresser and as I pass my mirror that's hanging on the same wall where the window is I stop.
I look at my reflection as I see a big blue and purple bruise on my cheek.
I can feel it throbbing but I quickly push my thoughts of last night and the pain away and start getting ready.
I put on my sand coloured, worn clothes and brush my hair, letting it loosely cover the sides of my face.
I head out the door while putting on my shoes.
I didn't even dare to ask questions as to why we need to head into town.
Just as I was wondering what was going on my father speaks up.
"our moisture vaporator has been slacking again, if it keeps going like this we will run out of water. You need to go get me a new pipe so we can fix it."
I don't even need to ask what he will be doing in the meantime, he will probably disappear into the tavern like always and come back wasted and most of all, angry.

We start walking across the desert, both silent.
It's better this way, better than talking to eachother.
Anchorhead is a good 35 minute walk away from our house and in this heat that proves to be quite the workout.
While we walk I try to occupy my mind by focusing on my breathing and tapping into the force surrounding us.
There is not many people out here but here and there I can sense someone.
Their thoughts are all the same though, just work and get through the day.
There isn't much to do on Tatooine except work anyway.
Suddenly I sense my father's thoughts and emotions.
I always try to steer clear from that since I'd rather leave all of the tention surrounding that man be. It never does me any good.
I can feel how conflicted he is, how lonely.
Ever since my mom... everything changed.
We used to be happy, the three of us.
Now he's an angry drunk who doesn't have anyone to take his grief out on but me.
I know he blames himself for what happened, and if I'm very honest, it probably is his fault.
But we never speak about what happened, neither of us can handle that.