Simon's Secret Daughter (Niall Horan)

Her mom has a secret; a secret that she's kept to herself all though Beau's life. Tremendous secrets are added to Beau's life that will breakdown her walls but she will slowly rebuild them with all her effort and force. Secrets are one thing but lying is another, adding Simon Cowell to the picture won't help at anything. But secrets will get reviled and death in a flash. But one thing is for sure, somethings are not what they seem.


2. Chapter One

Summer : lily-collins-abduction

→Chapter One →

            Secrets Are Unraveling 

Some days I would take a seat on Mrs. Mayfield's porch, taking in all the little details about life and why we're really here. Most people don't see me as the type that would take a minute to look around and realize I'm here for a reason. I look at the things that I never noticed before, the good and evil in life and everything really. I would end up deep in thought I wouldn't even realize it got dark out. It's like my mind is capable of all these thoughts but doesn't realize what's happening around me. Mom always wondered why I would sit and stare at a wall for hours on end, she thought something was wrong with me, but really, my thoughts just take over and don't stop till someone gets my attention. Drifting back to reality,where all my daydreams and fancies aren't real.

The soft sound of pitter patter of rain hitting against the tiny glass window as no sunlight shine through like everyday the sunlight shines through. The comfort enveloping my body in waves of heat. Prying my fingers out into the cold air and rapping them around the edge of the comforter before tugging it up to my chin and burring my face into the warmth. Breathing in the familiar scent of home, the one place everyone will always remember. There I go, back into my own thoughts.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The blustering ticking of the ancient father clock being able to be heard from upstairs from where it hangs on the far side of the house; the kitchen. The echoing sound of mother's feet beating against the hardwood flooring downstairs, the kettle whistle shrieking from the stove as it calls saying the water has bolded. My life is boring, nothing ever happens. The same, and thats how we like it. The same old rotten actions. Summer goes to work on the weekends around 7 am before coming home at 4 pm. Well me and mom stay home reading or going out to get food and other needs. Mom surely liked the peace and quiet but me , I like it too but after a while, you get sick of it. I normally just spend my time listening to music while reading a good book. Nothing different about that. I never really did anything with my time, I had no friends at school, they were mostly all Summer's friends that just hang with me so they can become friends with her. They are fake friends to me, they never noticed when I didn't eat lunch or was so quiet, or why I always wore long sleeve shirts and sweaters. Nope, not once did they notice. I was nothing to them. Anyways, I did get out, to go to school and go to the park to get away from everyone. People try to get to know me but they end up leaving or killing them self's, I'm always left alone. Summer is never at home, always out partying and such. I never really had a friend that actually stayed after they found out why I'm the way I am. Not once. Summer did stay for a bit but that was until she got real friends.

I am the girl that sits with a group of people that I know but they don't know me, had my depression hidden with a smile and my cuts hidden with my sleeves. My life will never be the same as it was years ago, little old me. Sweet, innocent, kind, caring, loving, happy.

Pealing open my eyes, looking around the familiar room before briskly pulling the comforter off my body and exposing my body to the crisp arctic air swinging around my room. Throwing my feet over the side of the bed, I rest there for a few minutes, trying to wake myself up a bit before I decide to get something to eat downstairs. Standing up, I take one quick glimpse of my figure beholding in the mirror, my auburn color hair swept up into a messy bun on top of my head, some pieces falling out and dangling around my face giving it the perfect frame. My crystal orbs bloodshot from the all nighter I pulled. I didn't look so bad as the other days. Normally my hair is all over the place.

Fixing up my bun a bit as I make my way out of my room and down the hallway just a clattering sound, sounded in the kitchen before a loud thud and a few other crashes sounded. Jumping a few feet in the air from the noise echoing in the house before I lightly sprint down the rest of the hallway and the stairs as well before I swiftly make my way around the room and into the kitchen, where the crash came from. My eyes darting around the room before lading on mother laying unconscious on the floor laying on shattered glass and small traces of blood. The not so familiar nauseous quaking my stomach as I try to get a hold of seeing blood. Even though I cut all the time, I cover up the blood before I can see it. I've always hated blood I never knew why, but I just can't stand it. My eyes trying to avoid the blood as my mind sailing with thoughts on what to do. I am too panicked to even think as my eyes sting while the water floats my eyes. Swallowing hard, I compass her unconscious body as I whisper shout her name before I started yelling it.

"Mom?! Mom answer me!" The familiar lump building in my throat, snapping my eyes shut for a quick second as I erase everything that has happened and focus on what's happening now. Reopening my eyes, taking a deep breath as I reposition myself so I can grab my phone out of my sweater pocket.

The phone tumbling a few times in my hands as I shakily type in my password before dialling the familiar number. Listening to the annoying ringtone while my unoccupied hand ran up her neck as I try to find a heartbeat.

"9-1-1 what's your emergency?" A preppy voice sweetly enquired as panic rushed through me, no heartbeat. 

"My mother, s-she..fell a-a-and I c-ca-can't find a h-heartbeat." I bumbled, while blinking back the tears rolling off my orbs, sliding down my cheeks. 

"What's your address, sweetie?" The woman asked. 

"911 cold-stream drive" I managed to crock out as my voice became rouge and drawled. With that the line went dead. Wow, she's helpful. 

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Everything around me seemed normal, perfect to be insubstantial. Pity, that what I have been getting for the past few hours I've been here. All the thoughts, voices in my head telling me she's not going to make it,  me and Summer are going to be left alone. All the sounds and looks from others being tuned out, my own thoughts drown them out. I have traced every shape in this room with my eyes over ten or more times since, and thoughts about everything if mom dies. I even concerted what dad would think if he found out, that if he's not dead. I have been here for over four hours and all I've seen was people covered in blood being rushed in from local accidence. 

The doctors and nurses look at me with pity in their eyes before turning to other staff, looking at me a few times during their conversation before leaving completely. They know what happened to mom but yet they won't tell me a thing. I've been hoping for the past hours that a doctor or someone would come marching over here and tell me it was just a miner injury nothing to worry about, but that hasn't happened. I know it may seem like just from a fall, becoming unconscious won't cause this much damage to someone or get so much pity from the other doctors and nurses that pass, but it does. I don't understand. One minute she's perfectly healthy and alive the next she's laying in a hospital bed unconscious and me not knowing what's wrong. It's like there is this be secret behind this fall. If mom had cancer she would tell me, or anything life threading. For all you know she could have hit her head on the counter top, became unconscious. You never know. 

The sound of foot steps getting closer seemed to break me out of my thoughts. Tracing my eyes around the pale white tile floors , I notice a pair of white running shoes tied up tightly standing in front of me. My eyes running up the body, white dress coat, light blue pants and top, clip board, and pen. My eyes stop at a pair of unfamiliar deep brown eyes. 

"Ms. Skinner?" The doctors raspy voice involved. Nodding my head, I reposition myself on the not-so-comfortable chair.

"Your mother, She was diagnosed with lung cancer over a year ago, in a quick period of time it spread throughout her entire body. She didn't want to tell you about it because she was afraid you would be at her side twenty-four/ seven. She wanted you to be happy. I'm sorry. Over the time she spent here she told me everything, what to do if she didn't make it. She-" 

"No! She can't be dead! She was very heathy and living yesterday! She can't! No she's not dead! This is all just a joke! I bet she's going to jump out from behind a bush and start laughing cause she got me! Mom! You can come out now! You got me!" By this point I was yelling and screaming at the doctor while looking around for any signs of mother. All the attention was on me. With the tears spilling down my cheeks, the lump in my throat I dropped down to my knees, buried my face in my hands as I whisper. "She can't be dead" 

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After I finally sobered up a bit, the doctor brought me into his office. I took a seat on one of the two chairs seated in front of the mahogany desk with papers scattered around on top. Whipping the dried up tear strains from my cheeks as a few tears still ran down coating my cheeks in water once again. Tasting the salty tears at the corner of my lips, I quickly coated my lips in salvia before pursing them. 

"Your mother, told me about your father and how to contract him. Your father now knows about you, I will give him a call but first does Summer know your here?" The doctor, Dr. Buckley, asked as he organized the pieces of paper scatted across his desk. 

"Um, no" I spoke a bit unsure of myself. 

"Well you do that and I'll call your father. After you call make sure to tell her about what happened, try to get her down here" Nodding my head in agreement, I sealed with going outside then staying in here. Standing up, I make my way out of the office and down the hospital hallways. 

Once outside, I reach into my comfortable lose fitting sweater pocket and pulling out my phone. Unlocking the screen , I dial Summer's familiar number that I know off by heart. 

"What do you want?" Summer asked rather bounderish. 

"Well, if you weren't being suck a bitch you would know. " I inelasticity spoke.

"What has gotten into you?" I would hear the smirk in her voice, knowing I never snap at anyone no matter what. 

"Well it could be because mom is dead and I get to find out about my father for the first time in my invigoration." I said while detrition my teeth together.

"Wait! Mom's dead?" Summer's voice filled with worry and sadness as tears spring into my eyes just at the thought. 

"I'm sorry Summer, I don't know what happened!" I blazon out once again. 

"It's okay, I'll be there soon" I heard a few sniffs indicating she's crying. 

After ending the call, I made my way back inside and into Dr. Buckley's office. My mind still racking with thoughts as I take a seat on the chair I sat just moments before. I remembered after a while of asking mom I started making up what he looked like, what he did, everything about him I made up. But I gave up on believing on him, I just thought he must have died before I was born or something. 

"Ms. Skinner, your mother gave me this to give to you" Dr. Buckley's voice startled me from my thoughts. I look over to see what he was talking about and notice he's holding a envelope while covering a phone to his chest. Thanking him, I take the letter him his hands and let him get back to the call. Unconstricted the obstructed envelope, I take out the letter.  The familiar perfect neat handwriting, written across the paper in the perfect form as I take in the first few words. Beau, my nickname. 

Dear Beau,  


There are some secrets that we won't know as a human being, but other secrets we will. Secrets are what keep friendships together and in place, it's what keeps things unknown to others around you. I know you never appreciated life like you have in the past years, I know this will tare you apart for the longest period of time but I want you to forget me but keep me in your heart at the same time. I will always be around to no matter what. I know it's hard to ask you of those things but I want you to be happy. But when you move in with your father I want you to forget and be happy, find a guy that will love you for you no matter if your sad. I want him to make you happy, I want to see your smile when your around him and hear your laugh from the heavens above. It's music to my ear when you sing and laugh. 

I remember when you where younger, you would always skip around the house in your little pink princess dress singing the latest hit. Like 'My Best Friend' by Tim Mcgraw in 2000. You went the whole year singing that song. I almost lost it by the end of the year. There are so many memories with you and Summer that I would like to retell but that would take hours of writing. I'll be too weak by then. 

The pictures will never compare to the memories, they will always stay with you forever and always. All those memories that aren't important to you or anyone are important to me, always. I hope you one day stop and take a look around you and realize all the little details in life and why we're here, I know you have done it once or twice but in a few months I want you to look around and realize why your here. I want you to realize what has changed and what hasn't. Then I want you to write a letter, a letter telling me what has happened in the past few months since I've been gone. You can do whatever you want with the letter. Mail it, save it, burn it. But I want you to doit. 

There's so much more I want to write but I can't. I don't have enough time. Your coming home soon. Follow your dreams no matter what. Become a singer, an artist, an actor, anything. 

I love you, 


P.s. Smile, you look better with that bright smile of yours. 

The tears pouring down my cheeks coating them with tears, the small smile creeping up my face. Reaching up, I whip the tears once again and rub my eyes. Folding up the paper, I place it back in the envelope before stuffing it in my sweater pocket.  Mom, I promise I will. 


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