"Isn't She Lovely?"

Harry Styles hasn't always made the best life decisions. When a tragic event results in him confronting his past, emotions stir and his life changes drastically. Follow Raegan, Harry's little secret, as she loses her mother and is forced to meet her father for the very first time. Read along as she learns to accept her life with her newly found father, and faces the complications and advantages of living with five young men.


1. Taken Prisoner



Chapter One:

Taken Prisoner



“I’m what? With who? No, really! Officer, you don’t understand, I don’t have a father.”

These were the last few words I remember muttering to the cop who was now forcibly driving me to who knows where.

About a month ago, I lost my mother. No, wait. I take that back. I lost my best friend. My mom and I didn't have your typical mother-daughter relationship. We were much, much closer. You see, my mother and I were only 14 years apart. But don't get it twisted, she wasn't like that. She just had a real bad habit of seeing the good in everyone, even if there wasn't any. Nevertheless, it didn't matter that she was so young, because I loved her, and she loved me. We didn't need anyone else. All that mattered was us. 

                My mom wasn't proud of what happened. I mean, why would she be? A child at 14? That's ridiculous! "Obviously someone should have raised her better." The thing is, people don't really understand what went down. They make their pathetic assumptions just to feel better about themselves. When in reality, she was a better person than all of the ignorant people who judged her put together. 

In my mom’s first year of high school, her friends convinced her to go to this party. It was like any regular high school party: Booze. Drugs. Sex. It was not exactly my mom's idea of 'fun.' However, her friends were completely convinced that this party would determine their reputations for the rest of high school, so she decided to let them have a go at it. Though, not long after they arrived, my mom's friends left her stranded in the backyard, surrounded by drunk upper-class-men. Long story short, she found herself talking to this guy, who turned out to be only a year older than her. One thing lead to another until finally she was sure he was the love of her life. Seriously. All it took was a good conversation with my mother, for her to determine how she looked at you. Very rarely did she ever find someone she despised. She was incapable of such negative feelings. So it happened. What he said to convince her to go through with it, I will never know. But this boy was something special to my mom, and she made sure I knew that. Unfortunately for me, he was never around long enough for me to create my own opinion.

                She was three months pregnant when she first found out. Up until this point, my mother and the boy had spent loads of time together. In fact, they were inseparable. It turned out, that the boy she met was just as in to her, as she was to him. That, however, changed in a matter of minutes. He had barely heard the news when he made the decision to have nothing to do with us. As a child, my mom assured me that  it wasn't all his decision. She said that his stuck up parents were the main influence. “They would not have that kind of life for their son!” But that’s just my mom for you. Always looking at things from a positive perspective.

                Shortly after he found out, he informed my mother that he was “suddenly moving back to England.” Oh, but he assured her that it had nothing to do with the baby; with me. And oddly enough, she believed him. She didin't think anything else of it. Sure, she was upset he was leaving, but she didn't think wrongly of him for it. She felt no hate for him. None. Zilch. I guess maybe that’s why I have so much hate built up for him. I had to make up for the both of us. 

                So that’s it. My “dad” left, and my mother raised me. I've learned not to care if anyone approves of her having me at such a young age; it made us closer. We grew up together. That is, until about a month ago when she was hit by an intoxicated teenager and killed. Sure, I’m upset. I’ve been basically torn to shreds, but I’m dealing. Alright, that's a lie. I’m just shutting it out for now, because when I think of her I get weak, and I can’t be weak. I’m on my own now, I have to be strong. Loneliness and sadness lead to dark things, and I don't need anything else to go wrong. Though, now, I guess it doesn't matter. Tonight I found out that I'm not really on my own. A local police officer confronted me about my living situation, and, well, I'm still a minor. I don’t know how I made it a month without this happening. I guess the police department had more important things to worry about? I'm not sure, but it wasn't the top of my worries. I had been living on my own for almost an entire month, I mean I’m almost seventeen, I can handle it. And yet, legally, I'm still too young, which only means one thing: they tracked down my father. Hell, maybe that's why it took the police department so long to contact me. They had trouble finding the creep. My mother never clarified my father's true identity, she just told me little things to make me understand what happened. She tried to make it clear that he wasn’t a bad guy. But that’s not the impression I got from her stories.

                The police officer shows up around 9:00 and tells me of my 'new arrangements.' I quote: "Miss Bennett, my dearest apologies from both me and the rest of the Adam's County Police Department. I express my deepest sorrow for your loss. Under these circumstances, however, all custody rights have been transfered to your father. You will be escorted immediatly to your new residence." Simply meaning, "Welcome to Hell." My natural response is to laugh as if it is a joke, but the police officer isn't seeing the humor in it. He is serious. He is literally taking me from my home to live with this-this stranger! This man I’ve never met! I try explaining to him how I have been doing just fine, but he just ignores me and escorts me to his police car. I have never been angrier. The last thing I want to do is move in with someone who abandoned me!

Immediately, the police officer drives me to the airport where I am put on the first flight to England. He sends some lady that works with the police department to escort me. She’s no official cop, but nonetheless I feel like a prisoner. She tries to make small talk with me, but I ignore her with the hope she understands that I’m not in the mood. Eventually, she backs off and sits quietly next to me as we make our way to England.

                About half way through the flight I brake the silence.

“Why?” I say, making her jump a bit.

“Why what?” she asks innocently.

“Why are you forcing me to live with this man?” I demand.

“Well, he’s your fath—“

“No, he’s not!” I cut her off. “A man that raises his child is a father. This man didn’t raise me. ”

She begins to shift uncomfortably,  and I decide to leave it at that. I know it's not her fault, and I almost feel bad for shouting at her. I’m not really this bitter, I promise. I’ve actually acquired a lot of my mother’s wonderful personality. Things are just rough lately. If you were being forced to  live with the man who abandoned you, you wouldn’t be a ray of sunshine either. 

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