I'm not your little girl (Inpired Movella)

Authors Note: I am not copying TributeDirectioners Movella, in fact, I loved it so much, that I decided to type my own version, following the same story line!
I'm Lauryn-Jayme Styles, and yes, I'm related to Harry Styles, one of five members to boy band 'One Direction'. Boy, is he going to get a shock when he sees me tonight; I'm not the little innocent dweeb that he chucked when he was a teenager for his best friends, I've completely changed.
And I hope It crushes him.

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1. I'm not your little girl

Lauryn's POV

The thunderingly deafening scream of my clock beeped, reminding me of my brother's, Harry Styles, arrival tonight. I wanted to die. I haven't spoken to Harry in an entire year now. I used to worship the ground he presenced, yet now I wouldn't even breath in his direction. Natural femininity cloaked in masculinity, I waited for the one knock on my door, signalling that my heartless Mom had gone to work. As if in queue, the knock echoed on my vandalised door, leaving as quickly as it had appeared, shadowed by the thump of the front door fastening, and I vertically bounced out of bed and glanced at my reflection; my once mousy cappuccino now pomegranate amethyst dyed hair suited my panda eyes like a puzzle piece, permanently terminal pouted lips shaped in a perfect circle. I squinted at the stranger in the mirror, before rummaging through my charcoal onyx drawers decorated in turquoise and bleached rhinestones, picking out some acid washed yellowed booty shorts, knee high black converse, a black panda beanie and a black tank top with a purple mesh sweater with a diamond outlined middle finger glued to the front and putting them on. What would Harry think about his little baby sister working at the local Gentlemen's club, Animalistic? I grimaced, attaching my crystal nose piercing, hoop snake bites, four arachnid earrings on my left ear and six earrings (bleached paper clip, moustache, neon yellowed zipper, a golden hoop and a rainbow stretcher) in the right, and my eyebrow piercing and adding foundation, concealer, neon yellow lipstick, purple eye shadow, mascara, black eyeliner and fake eyelashes. I back combed my hair, doubling it's size, and attached a native American feather to my fringe; I was having my hair dyed dark purple, light purple, midnight blue and black tonight, so I had to keep it simple. I fastened my leather choke chain necklace, my zombie fingers necklace, my seventeen skull bracelets and my Egyptian cobra ring to my neck, wrists and finger, not really caring if people saw my scars.  I liked this outfit.

"Lauryn? Are you leaving now?" breathed my twin sister, Emmaleigh, "What do you think?" Emmaleigh was wearing American flag raptured booty shorts, a white tank top with 'This is my Zombie killing tee bitches!" and blood splats on it, and black army boots. Emmaleigh doesn't have as many piercings as me, she's only got her ear pierced twice on her left ear and seven times on her right and a nose ring, and her hair is bleached blonde with blue and pink dip-dye, but I thought she looked so much like me.

"I love it! Are those my shorts?"

"Are those my shorts?" we both erupted into a seizure of laughter, before embarking to school, my 99 cents skull balloons designer bag and her 'I'm busy doing your Mom' black and white bag chucked over our shoulders. I brought type three fireworks, cigarettes, a combination of class A and B drugs with syringes, my razor, chewing gum, a flask of whiskey, and makeup in my bag, and Emmaleigh brought her cigarettes, Class B drugs with syringes, two razors, both mine and her lighters, makeup, three bottles of cheap vodka and mine and hers knives. We never bothered to bring essential equipment, I mean, we never did the work anyway, so what's the point?

"What's the time bub?" Emmaleigh questioned, smoking a joint and lighting me another.

"Uh, well, I left my watch at home, but I'm guessing we're late." I retorted, a humourless laugh trickling out of my lips, "Oh no! Now I'll never have a clean school record!" Emmaleigh snorted breathlessly as we neared school, taking one last drag of nicotine and casually dropping the butts on the charcoal ground.

"Fuck, I forgot Harry was coming over tonight!" Emmaleigh swore, cursing needling my funny bone, "Oh well, we're getting out hair done tonight, so we'll just happen to be 'fashionably late!'

"What are you getting done again?"

"Just a redo, I might buy some extensions, I was thinking twelve inches."

"I'll see you in technology, okay?" The registration bell warned another late notification, as Emmaleigh and I pirouetted casually through a scrambled mosaic of jealous glances, Emmaleigh still smoking another cigarette. I mounted my skateboard, scooting towards Mckayla and Tyler, instructing a grimace into an abysmal blunt expression. Mckayla and Tyler were the typically clique popular couple.

"...I mean, I was thinking about asking my Dad, but I reckon he'd just laugh- Oh, it's her."

"Mckayla! What a joint?" I teased vexingly, a dwarven grin tattooed callously to my pierced face, "I mean, I know that you haven't told anyone about that party yet, but, I was thinking about what you said...After much consideration, I've decided to accept your proposition." touching her heart-shaped face, I planted a solemn French kiss on her moisturised juicy permanently terminal pouted lips, tasting the Vodka venomously lingering from last nights party and brushing my manicured hand on her breast, soft moans evacuating her mouth.

Oh yeah, and I'm Bisexual, by the way.

"Call me Mckayla, I'll be looking forward to tasting you." I winked manipulatively, itching my head casually, removing one of my twelve inch extensions instinctively, "Shit!" I inhaled, I exhaled, attaching my extension strategically, thinking of excuses for my lateness. I fumbled in my claustrophobic pocket, apocalyptically texting Emmaleigh;

Lauryn-Jayme Styles: Decided not to come to school, cant be bothered. Besides, I have a shift at Animalistic tonight, I was planning on ditching anyways. Come out please bub? xxxxxx

Emmaleigh Jayne Styles: In English literature, bored out of my mind, chucking spittle balls at Jennifer Trump. I'll be out in a min, going to fake throwing up, wait out at the gates xxxxx

Lauryn-Jayme Styles: Okay bub, I'll see you in five minutes? xxxxx

I chuckled a humourless laugh, heartlessly lighting another joint, suffolcatingly large smoke circles venomously invading the breathable air. I waited for exactly seven minutes, salivating at the greasy Doughnut Hut magenta with bleach sprinkles glazed doughnuts in the window. Emmaleigh casually skated towards me, smile faltering her rehearsed masquerade of nausea as she too elevated her nose at the smell.

"You up for Doughnut Hut for lunch?" I mouthed swimmingly, glancing at the new bulleted skin tearing through the skin on Emmaleigh's scrawny wrist, "Hey, are you okay?" Emmaleigh turned to face me, blackened eye symbolising a fight, a struggle, cracked lip twitching nervously, my twilight eyes locked to her tangerine contacts.

"It's nothing, okay? She just tried to steal my lighter. I got defensive, I punched, she punched. It was really my fault, please don't do anything."

"Who did this to you?"

"Please, I don't want you to get into trouble, I-"

"Who did this to you Emmaleigh?"

"Wednesday-Louise Jordan. Please, don't do anything."

"Come on, let's steal some Doughnuts," I instinctively switched the subject, needling, injecting liquid hallucinations into my veins with a syringe, "Here's some 'money', okay? You know what to do, I'll catch up to you." Emmaleigh shrugged nonchalantly, psychotic animalistic smile tattooed, as she elevated her booty shorts and tightened her canopy neon tangerine bra strap, bouncing enthusiastically and twiddling her hair in her slender, manicured fingers like an innocent stripper. In the distance, I heard the elementary yet sophisticated warning bell and vertically bolted towards it, waiting for Wednesday-Louise. I knew that she couldn't beat me. I knew that I was going to send her to the hospital.

"What gives you the fucking right to beat my sister, you fuck?" I screamed coarsely to Wednesday-Louise, knuckled knuckle dusters crocheted against my porcelain skin, indicating the seriousness of the situation. I watched her pouting lips twitch, "If you even look at her in a funny way, I'll break your fucking wrists."

"Oh, is Lesbian Lauryn going to try and fight me? You were smart for skipping school today you retard."

"Are you going to make this harder than it will be already? Fine by me." I venomously clutched her bleached pleated collar, bruising her skeleton callously, punching the grimace right off of her smug foundation decorated face, vandalising her perfect skin, "You will never mess with my sister again." and, as promised, I broke her wrists.

Wednesday is like Harry in so many ways. Annoying, perfect and in the top three of my punch list.

   

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