My father, the bodyguard ~ 1D

Hi. My name is Rachel. I'm 19. I have never met my biological Father. My mother remarried when I was 3. My last name is Higgins. I have never had a boyfriend, nor been kissed. My mother has organised a meeting with my Father. My Friends are only my friends because they have a wierd suspicion that I'm related to some hot-shot bodyguard. Never have I believed them. And never will I in the future. But you never know.

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1. Garbage truck

Rachel POV

 

Me. Myself. I. 3 things I have not found in 19 years. I have a name. Rachel Higgins. I refuse to use my new last name, seeing that my step-father is a dickhead. I have naturally curly brunette hair. I have dyed it a few time, but never the full head.

My Mother says that I do not have permission to use a permenant dye, so I only use temporary colours. It gets annoying coming home to a fat slob who doesent get out of his imprinted seat on the couch. Only early in the morning is he ever out of that rotting couch.

I grunt while getting out of bed. Same rountine every morning. I drag my lifeless, pale, unpopular body out of my rock-hard bed. I squint my eyes open. Yes, same pig-stye I wake up in every morning. Sometimes I hope my Father would kidnap me. Anything would be better than living with an overly optimistic Mother, and a human sack of potatos.

I trudge to my cupboard. The usual colours fill the room. Black, pink, purple and fluro green. I'm goth, yes. I'm turning EMO, gradually. I pulled out; a pink tutu with black zig-zag stripes, black tights, dark purple top and fluro green fishnet gloves.

I pull my pathetic body out into the living room. My Step-Fagget was out working, his a garbage man. But the happy-mum was sitting expectantly on the counter. She had made her usuall 5 course breakfast for when the 'husband' comes home. I honestly don't know why she married such a worthless piece of scum that lived on the streets. As much as I hate to say it, were rich.

She grumpily pushed a plate of bacon and eggs toward me. "Sup, Mother?" I asked in my usuall fucked up voice. "Your Father and I had an argument about your age." I raised an eye-brow. She isn't talking about my biological Father. She reffers Darren, the step dick, as my Father. "Whats so argumentitive about my age? I'm 19." I told her. She sighed.

"You see, your Father *cue rolling eys from me* and I think we should send you on your way, out of the house. Your old enough, and you Father thinks your causing too much trouble." He only thinks I cause trouble because I call his a fagget in every sentence I speak. "What a fagget." I muttered. YOU SEE?!

She sighed. My mother has never actually wanted me, you could tell. She had me at 16. She's 35, now. Aparently she wanted an abortion, but my father (the real one) wouldent let her. He sounds nice enough...."IS THAT SLUTTY BITCH OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE YET?!" Darren yelled, his British voice booming throughout the house.

Soon enough, he was in the kitchen. "YOU HAVE THE REST OF THE DAY TO PACK AND MOVE FROM MY GOD-DAMNED HOUSE!" He yelled. "YOU KNOW WHAT, FAGGET?! I WISH YOU WHERE NEVER BORN! ALL YOU HAVE DONE FOR THIS FAMILY IS SIT AND EAT IN ONE SPOT ALL DAY, OCASIONALLY GETTING UP FOR A DRINK WHEN MUM WASN'T HERE! I HATE YOU MORE THAN EVERY THING IN THIS WORLD, EVEN MORE THAN ONE DIRECTION! AND THATS SOMETHING!" I screamed. He smiled and told me what he said before.

I turned to Mum. "Could you do me 1 favour?" I asked. She nodded. "Send me to where my real father is?"

 

*5PM, later that day*

 

I put all my furniture on eBay, knowing that the items would only bring back horrible memories. Mum said she would collect all the money, sending it to me when it is given. I kissed my Mother on the cheek for 1 last time.

a tear slipped from her eye. "I'll miss you Rachel Katerina Higgins." She whispered into my hair. I looked at her with a smile. "You finally realised that I'll never look to that retarded donkey as a Father!" I said happily. She smiled.

I took one last look at the house. A small part of me will miss dragging my limp, pale body across the empty hallways. The same part will miss staying up untill late hours of the night, playing games on my phone. But an even larger part will miss the hugs my Mother gave me when I was little and had a nightmare. She still does.

I pull my black luggage out to the curb. My mother slipped out a white ticket with digital letters and numbers on it. "Your train ticket." She said while pulling out another piece of paper. "His adress." And she pulled out yet another piece. "And a letter for you to open when you get there, don't let Darren see it.....he would know what it is." She whispered. I smiled and slipped all 3 pieced of paper into my 'Kermit the frog' backpack.

Darren hurled my bags into the back of his porche. I rolled my eyes at his fortune to have captured a rich womans heart. I kissed on Mum on more last time before jumping into the expensive car. I waved at her through the window, she was gushing out tears. I blew a kiss to her.

 

*train station*

 

I walked out to the platforms. Platform 6, platform 6, I wish it was platform 9 3/4 I thought to myself. I sat down on a wooden bench while waiting for the train to roll up. I heard screaming and rapid footsteps toward me. I turned my head and saw somegirls pointing at me and screaming.

"EXCUSE ME?! YOU DID NOT JUST LOOK AT ME?!" I growled, sounding all black (no offence black people, I lava you!!!). They nearly died when they saw me open my mouth. I rolled my eyes. "YOUR PAUL'S DAUGHTER!" One of them screamed. I looked at them funny. "PAUL HIGGINS DAUGHTER?!" Another group of girls screamed. I sunk into my seat. How do they know my fathers name?

Soon enough, 6 groups of girls were screaming. I pulled out my phone and tapped on the contacts icon. I opened up my back-pack and read a piece of paper. Phone number; 1234567890 (lol). I tapped the plus button, to add my Fathers number.

After the adding process, I saw a few girls lurching closer. My Mother mentioned something about his job.....what was it. The girls soon began walking at a fast pace toward me. I slapped the call button.

ring

ring

ring

"Hello?" The masculine voice called into the phone. "Umm?! Paul?! Paul Higgins?!" I screamed into the phone. "Yes?" I screamed as one grabbed my hair. "DAD! HELP!" I screamed into the phone. "Oh sh-" He hung up.

Girls were soon groping my clothes, ripping my tutu. "OH MY GAWD! I JUST TOUCHED HER!" I heard a girl scream. "YOU EVIL LESBIAN! AHHH!" I screamed as she went to touch me again. "BACK AWAY FROM THE GIRL!" A voice called over a megaphone. The girls ran for another object, screaming growing louder.

I looked up and saw a balding man, middle aged. body guards held the girls back as the man made his way to me. "Are you Rachel Higgins?" He asked. I slowly nodded. His smile grew.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm your father."

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