Inconvenient Trips

When Rose tags along on a family trip to London at thirteen, a lot goes wrong.. The next five years of her life are consisted of misery and trouble, until she decides to make a choice and leaves to the place she believes she belongs most. London.


1. The Trip

WARNING: The contents of this story may be slightly disturbing to some readers. If you are not comfortable with cursing, self harm, abuse, and similar types of things, then do not read this story. This story is not trying to promote any of these actions. 

Rosalie's POV

My name is Rosalie Faith Exton. I am thirteen years old, born on February 2nd, year 1999. My parents are still together, though I wish they weren't. That might sound selfish, but if you knew the full story, you'd agree. I'm 5'3. I have long, wavy brunette hair and bright, lifeless, sad filled hazel eyes.

I am depressed.

I am verbally abused.

I have suicidal thoughts.

My family is falling apart.

You probably might think that just because I'm thirteen years old I'm not allowed to feel this way. Just because I might have the luxury of everything.

But I didn't want all of these things. Nice clothes, a nice phone, trips around the world. All I wanted was somebody who would care. About me, about what I say, about my dreams. Instead of shutting it all down as soon I propose the idea.

I wanted it so badly. I wanted to explore the world, be able to speak out and try to help. I wanted to make a difference.

No one seemed to want to give me a chance. I've just about given up on what I've wanted to do all my life. Lately, I feel.. Different. I'm not too sure on whether it's good or bad. 

"I WANT A DIVORCE! NOW! I FUCKING HATE YOU!" My dad yelled, unexpectedly loudly, which caused me to flinch. I didn't take his words seriously for three reasons. One, he's said he's wanted a divorce with my mother tons of times and it never ends up happening. Two, this pretty much happens everyday. And three, I've grown tired of it to the point that the two of them screaming insults at each other, doesn't matter to me.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" My mother yelled, her thick French accent lacing each and every word that flew out of her mouth, whilst I, lay on my bed in my room, trying to block out their screams of anger.

Soon enough, my dad had stopped and stormed into his room, slamming the door shut. They don't even sleep in the same room anymore. My mother, of course, mumbled another insult at him after the door slammed shut.

And now here I was, still under the covers, trying to fall asleep. My dad, he'd been talking about a trip to Europe for the past two or so months. I didn't believe it would actually happen because the trip has been on and off with all of these arguments. But I'd recently found out that the trip was certainly happening, the tickets were already bought. And I knew my parents, they weren't going to throw away these expensive tickets even with all the money we have. We are in America, after all. I was definitely excited, but my mood kind of dropped ever since tonight's feud. 

The following morning, I put on my best fake smile and acted happy as I did my usual routine and went out. It was December, and it was winter break. I saw huge suitcases on the table, packed to the very top. A small smile tugged at my lips. I was going to the place of my dreams. Europe. Specifically, England. It was just for seven days, but I was grateful for anything, as long as I got to go there. 

The only thing I wasn't looking forward to was my stressed out parents, blaming each other for everything bad that happened while in the airport. I stayed silent pretty much the entire time, and this was only the second time I've been on a plane. The difference was this was about a nine hour flight, from America to England.


I was in my own little world for the next hour and a half, and before I knew it we were standing at our gate, A3, and the airport attendant was calling out a few names of people who had ticket changes. Now, first class was boarding. Unfortunately, I was sat beside a stranger. He looked to be a teenager. For some reason, he had sunglasses on, and his hood was up as well. A thought crossed my mind but I immediately dismissed it. I wasn't going to let my hopes get up when we arrived in London. London was massively large, the chances of finding the five boys who meant so much to me were zero. It might sound silly, and you might think I'm just going through some phase because I'm thirteen years old for liking this bubblegum-pop boy band known as One Direction.. But like I had said before, if you knew the whole story, you'd understand.

I enjoyed being in the fandom, it was hilarious, and we all understood each other. But two years ago, back in 2010, when I was spending a week visiting family over in the UK, I came across The X Factor. Brand new season. And it was the first audition of these five boys who wanted their dreams to come true as solo artists. I instantly took an interest to them, and since then, they haven't grown old to me. The interest hadn't gone away a bit, and I'm not suspecting it to go away either. 

Sometimes I didn't feel comfortable in the fandom, though. Because of my age. I've learned that anyone under the age of 14 are looked down on by the majority. Because apparently, we aren't mature enough to be in the fandom, although I know many people my age who know probably more than any of the others do. I don't believe every single one of them think the same way about fans under the age of 14, but it slightly upsets me how judgmental people can be sometimes. And in reality, it hurts. It makes me feel ashamed, to be the age I am, and I honestly cannot wait to grow older. It's just another thing that I've done wrong.

My mind continued wandering and at the moment, I was messing around with my camera on my phone, looking at my reflection and fixing my hair. Not that I'd seem more attractive by doing so. I stopped, just staring at my reflection, noticing how dull my eyes looked. How the life and happiness in my eyes that I used to have, disappeared. It's no longer there.

"Hello," I heard a voice speak up and I snapped my head towards them, realizing it was the boy, or young man in fact, next to me. I furrowed my eyebrows slightly in confusion, wondering why he was speaking to me. It was a bit strange as well, I was thirteen. Why would anyone want to talk to me anyway.

"Um, hi." I said shyly, giving him a friendly smile. I wasn't going to be rude, of course not. 

"Sorry if I'm being weird. Hope you don't mind, I like having conversations on planes." He said, chuckling quietly, and I finally noticed his British accent lacing his raspy voice. It almost sounds like.. No. It can't be, I'm just thinking too much into it. 

"It's alright, just be glad my mom is way back there. Otherwise she'd tell me to stop talking to you." I say, laughing a bit, even though it was fake. Pretty much anything I did that resembled happiness was fake, not that my family or anyone ever picked it up.

He laughed a bit, looking at me carefully. "Are you alright?" He asked softly, his voice almost soothing. 

"Fine." I replied shortly, giving him my best smile. He nodded, but didn't seem very convinced. I was just glad he didn't press on the subject.

"I don't believe you, but you're lucky that I'm not a very nosey person." He said, smiling back very slightly.

I sighed and nodded, knowing just one thing. This was going to be a long plane ride.


Hello lovelies! I came up with the idea of this story a couple of months back and decided to finally start writing it. It'll definitely be my favorite story so far, and I really hope you guys like it as much as I do :) thank you so much for reading! Please leave some feedback, it would mean a LOT, and please vote or fan me :) -M xx As always, lots of love!x

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