Styling My Life

This is a Harry Styles fanfic. I'm not going to give more a summary than this: A girl. Named Hallie. One Direction.

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9. Encounter.

~Hallie's POV~

I knew this would happen. Eventually, I would be found. I sat with Dan in the back of the sanctuary on an old park bench. I couldn't bear think of Janie. What was she thinking right now? Was she worried about me? Another tear slid down my face.

"Stop crying, you ugly fag." Dan said, slapping my across the face. I held in my tears as blood streamed into my hand.

"Why-- why do you want me?" I asked carefully, shrinking away when he took a step towards me.

"I need you to get to your mother. She is the reason I'm here. You are something that never should have happened." He turned away from me.

I looked down. There was a one in a million chance I would make it out of here alive.

"Who are you?" I asked, my tears refused to remain captive now, they slid down my face uncontrollably.

"Don't you recognize me? I'm your father." He said, his face completely solemn.

My jaw dropped. "You..." My fear and sadness quickly turned to anger. "You left me! You left us! Do you have any idea of the toll you took on Mom! Why the hell are you back here? To kill me? To hurt the only real family I have left? I hate you!" I screamed at him.

I was shaking now, and I slowly sunk to the ground. "I hate you..." I cried into my hands.

"Good." was the only response he gave.

Then I saw two figures running into the clearing where we were. I figured they were probably policemen. Then I heard gunshots. But they weren't coming from the two figures. I ran to hide behind the park bench.

Finally, my vision cleared as the final tears fell. I squinted to see a boy, with green eyes and beautiful curly hair holding a gun an arms length away. His finger was on the trigger, ready to pull at a moment's notice. Then a saw a girl next to him. She had black hair that was up in a bun and bangs that covered her forehead. She was very pretty, but her scowl of hatred made her look tough. I felt like I should know who they were, but no remembrance came. I looked at both of the people as silent tears slipped down their faces. Had I caused those tears? I furiously tried to remember who they were.

Meanwhile, the boy approached the man I had just been yelling at. Who was the man? I couldn't remember.

"Let her go," the boy said, his hand with the gun in it was shaking.

"Who are you to tell me what to do, you little brat?" The man laughed. I balled my fists in anger, but remained hidden.

"Where is she?" the girl screamed, looking frantically for some sign of the girl they were looking for. Were they looking for me?

The man laughed again. "Foolish children. I've killed her."

I watched the boy slowly sink to his knees. Now their tears were no longer silent. They both sobbed and the boy dropped his pocket gun. "No, no!" he cried.

"Smart move," the man said before firing at both of the grief-stricken teenagers. I turned away not wanting to watch. Who had the man killed?

I heard more gunshots and then I felt a sharp pain in my side. My vision started to blur. My memory started to get fuzzy. Where was I?  If I couldn't remember anything else, I tried to hold on to my name.

I am Hallie Elizabeth Thomas. I am from New York.

I am Hallie Elizabeth Thomas.

I am Hallie Elizabeth.

I am Hallie.

I Hallie.


Then my vision went dark.


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