Broken ( sequel to Moments)

Darcy is the daughter of the famous Harry Styles but things are not what they used to be with her dad, he is broken, maybe beyond repair. As she tries desperately to fix her dad before its to late. Secrets are uncovered, pain is too and hearts are broken. Darcy finds love but is her families past just to much for her....?

SEQUEL TO "MOMENTS" PLEASE READ IT FIRST!

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2. Chapter 2

   

Now me. I am nothing special, my name is Darcy Anne Styles I am 16 years old. My hair is blonde like my mothers and a little bit wavy like my dads, I have my mums eyes, dad once told me that they were just like Niall's and he was so happy to have two pairs of them in his life. I dads smile, his dimples then the rest of my face is a mix of my parents, so I guess I'm not to bad looking. I am pretty bad looking inside though, hah. I guess its a bit ironic the way I turned out “troubled” the teachers call it or “depressed” was what most of the other kids said. I just don't like to confine myself in other people to much, I guess in a way I don't want people knowing how fucked up my family is. Its not to me though, I love my family more then anything in the world. Mum is so funny and beautiful, she has always taught me to fight in life and be who I want to be. Dad has taught me that is alright to be sad but only if its a good enough reason, when I was little he used to get so mad at me when I would cry about things like dropping my ice cream or stubbing my toe, you know the usual. But dad would tell me that it was stupid to cry, that I had know idea what pain was, that it was so foolish to cry about stuff like that. Its not like dad doesn't cry enough, he breaks down all the time and yeah it does break my heart but sometimes I feel a bit embarrassed. He is a grown man, why should he cry so much. Because his four best friends died when he was 19, sometimes I have to get to grips with what that would of felt like. Just the thought of being so alone and grief-stricken makes me weak at the knees, I cant even contemplate what that would of felt like. He keeps things in the Attic, things of the past, his friends belongings. A guitar, sunglasses, leather jacket and a jean jacket. Once when I was seven mum had been doing spring cleaning in the attic and I was helping her. Back then the attic was the coolest place ever.... until I found the box of “the boys” belongings, while mum wasn't watching I managed to get it down the ladder and out into the lounge where dad was sitting on his laptop. Then moment he saw that box was so scary, his eyes filled with rage and his hands started to shake . He got up and pulled me close to him,

“Darc, you cant bring this box out of the attic okay?” He whispered to me, trying to keep his anger under control, a tear forming in his eye. I was so afraid all I could do was nod my head. Dad let go of me, picked up the box and went up into the attic. Now that wasn't the part that “scared me” it was when I timidly crawled up the attic ladder and peaked my head in to find mum with her arms around dad as he choked into her shirt. I sat there watching them, hard over my mouth tears rolling down my cheeks.

Yeap its times like these that occur far to much in this household but I guess thats what keeps us together.

 

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