Sweet what's sweet about my life? Nothing. I answered my own question. I dragged my brush through my long blonde hair. I was due to get on the school bus in exactly twelve minutes. I didn't want to. Every morning I never wanted to go to High School. Only two more years, I told myself. I placed the brush on my bed. And scoped up the things I needed. I found myself looking at my walls. Posters of Taylor Swift and Harry Styles hang on my walls. I don't know why I had stuck my parents on my wall. Maybe because they weren't really my parents any more I had never understood why I had done that, it was a bitter reminder when ever I dared to glance. I did that when I was thirteen, and I never had the heart to rip their photo off and chuck it in the bin.
My heart longed for them. I was angry at them though, and frustrated. I took a glance in my mirror on the way out. My blue-eyed reflection looked back at me. I had eyes like my Mummy, and I had a smile like my Daddy. I had only my features to remind me of them, but I was adopted by them.
I glanced at the notebook in my hands, Darcy Styles it read. I didn't feel like a daughter of Harry or Taylor. I felt... I didn't want to know how I felt; I had tried my best not to let my thoughts stop me. I opened my bedroom door, and slammed it closed behind me. I intended to slam it, as a warning to my Auntie and Uncle.
"Darcy" My Auntie cried from the lounge room.
I rolled my eyes before entering the lounge room. I avoided resting my eyes on her face.
"You look so good today Love" she said. She ignored my slamming of the door like she did everyday. I'm amazed she had the amount of patient.
My Uncle arrived in the lounge room.
"Sleep well Darcy?" He asked.
"Bus leaves in ten," he told me.
I glanced at my Uncle. I admired both my Aunty and Uncle. They supported me through eleven years of my life. They loved each other that was obvious to me. They were going to be married sometime this year. Uncle Zayn had let me in on the news before he actually bought the engagement ring, he had even brought me along to buy it.
All around me love was strong and building. My Uncle Louis and Aunt Eleanor, had married a little over five years ago. And I was a cousin to their daughter Eloisa. EL was expecting another baby in a little over eight months. My uncle Niall had found himself in the love boat with a girl called Bridget. They were already married. My Uncle Liam and was also married to a girl named Nina. Love blossomed all around me. Except between my Mummy and my Daddy, who now I know as Mother and Father. It seemed formal to call them Mother and Father. Mummy and Daddy seemed too affectionate; I had easily called them that in my younger years, cause they were around for me. I didn't think it was right they still be called Mummy and Daddy when their presence's was bare in my eleven years of my life.
I removed myself from Uncle Zayn and Aunty Sonya, as they pull one another into a hug. That simple gesture between them pulls me apart, I know it shouldn't but affection between any one just breaks me in two.
I find myself wandering about the kitchen looking for something to eat. I settle for one apple and one banana. I dread the ride to High School. I dread having to force my name through my teeth to all my new teachers and classmates. The classmates all know me, I'm the talk of the High School, I'm best known for being the failed daughter of Styles and a fighter.
I was told and warned to contain my anger this year, I'm told that every year. But nothing stops me lashing out. I've been grounded, I've been put in detention, they've threatened to ring up Uncle Zayn and Aunt Sonya, and they even threatened to have my parents put involved with the matters at hand. All just words, meaningless threats. I wish they carried through with ringing up my parents, so they could hear first hand the damage in my life they had inflicted.
I drag myself out the door, forcing a goodbye to my hugging Aunt and Uncle. I sit by the bus stop; I open my phone hopeful for something, a message a phone call that will never come. I shove the phone in my bag, disappointed with myself for letting my thoughts linger. I find myself glancing over my new text books. Darcy Styles, it doesn't feel right I still have my father's last name, legally he is still my father and Taylor still my mother. But they're not like a mother and father to me any more. Legally they handed over my care to my Aunt and Uncle eleven years ago. That doesn't mean they couldn't stop seeing me, contacting me or anything of that sort, but they did. Telling my social worker Kate that they couldn't handle seeing me cause of the pain they both had, what about the pain they were causing me by not seeing me?
I hang my head in my hands, eleven years and still longing for some one who isn't there for me. The break up between them was bitter, filled with lies, and seeds of doubt. I thought I understood all that was going on when I was five, at age fifteen I still don't think I understand, or maybe I just don't want to. Either way, nothing I could have done could have brought them back together, I understand that now, I think.
The bus arrives at the bus stop, teenagers flood onto the bus. I drag myself up off the sit and onto the bus.
"Darcy" the bus driver a young lady say to me, she knows me better then my parents do.
"Hi" I say forcing it through my mouth, my thoughts trying to break through.
"Neat day" she says. Gesturing to the all the loud teenagers.
"Neat" I repeat, and find myself a spot on the back of the bus away from the lot of them.
Trying to sort out all my emotions and feelings.
Sonya's (Zayn's Wife & Darcy's Aunt) POV:
It was the same with Darcy everyday a long face, and pretty poor attitude. In my young years my parents also split. I took it hard, but never like she has. She respects Zayn and I, she respects all her Aunts and Uncle. Her parents she rarely talks about, Harry Styles and Taylor Swift, they broke her apart when she was five, well really truth be told a lie broke them apart. Each of them left with scar's and to this day have not even repaired, the wound fresh and new even though the damage was done eleven years before.
When something goes wrong in your life, most people pull their family close, like I tired to do. But Darcy she goes around trying to keep everyone away from her. She doesn't want anyone to close to her, she doesn't like to get attached, or show signs of love or affection to anybody. She trusts people, like us and her Aunts and Uncles but she keeps them away from her to, pushes them back. I'm not sure why. I never really ask her things like that. We don't speak much at all. Hi and goodbye are normally all we really say except in a disagreement.
"Got to go babe," Zayn tells me, kissing my cheek.
"Take care" I tell him wrapping my arms around me.
"I will you to babe" he says.
"Zayn" I call to him as he opens the front door "what happens if Darcy's get into trouble?"
"She won't, bye babe," he says.
She won't every year he says it, she won't but every year she does. I slump back into the lounge. Feeling as if there is not a thing under the sun we could do to prevent her out breaks.
We all file off the bus, when we arrive at High School, not gently or cautiously all in a hurry. You get pushed and shoved a lot. I get shoved out the way "Watch it Styles daughter" the shover says.
I don't know him, I don't know a lot of people in High School but they know me thanks to my Father. I settle outside a bench outside of class. Room 16. I'm in Year 10 this year, and I'll be sweet sixteen in May. I plan a small thing, what I want more then ever is bigger though. I know it won't ever happen, its better not think about it. A girl comes to sit beside me, she glances at me and I know she knows who I am although I don't have a clue of who she is.
"Your Styles daughter" she cries, she holds out her hand politely.
"Yea" I say, I ignore her gesture to shake hands.
"Your Darcy" she says. I flinch at the use of my name. "I'm Becca"
I glance at her my eyes half on her half In my bag . "Nice"
I turn my attention fully back to my bag.
When I look up another girl is looking over me, she's skinny but her shadow is much larger.
"Styles daughter" she says, "How are you?" she doesn't say it in a nice way, I realise she's this years mean girl. I stand up, my height no much for hers. She towers above me, making me feel weak, small and insecure a feeling which I hate.
"So Styles daughter, how does it feel to be a loser?" she demands. My teeth clench. I beg myself not to get angry, I have been told to start the year of well, let mean comments slip away as the principle puts it.
"Tell me," she demands.
I raise my eyes to look at her in the face, like a challenge, a dare.
"Got guts hey," she says. She glances behind her at her friends who are just like her. I realise there is more then one mean girl in this class this year.
She turns back to me.
"Sing for me" she demands, "since you're the daughter of two pop artists I would think you'd know how to sing. Maybe genetics didn't work with you, as you failed, you come from some stupid parents some average parents like we have, but you were adopted by two losers and you took on Harry's name, didn't you, but then you broke them apart, your mum is still in pieces she got out didn't she before she raised a piece of dirt like...."
I don't let her finish; her words burn into me, causing my eyes to sting. I drop my bag by my side, my hand moves across her face, in a slap kind of manner causing her to startle a bit, her eyes pop open as it registers to her what I have just done.
"Keep your mouth shut," I say to, slapping her again across the face.
"How dare you little, you little devil" she spits.
She grabs my shoulders roughly, wrestling me to the ground. She pins me down sitting on top of me forcing her weight upon me, holding my down.
"Say it" she says slapping me across my face hard, making me blink. "Say that you're a rotter as a daughter"
I try hard to shove her off me, her weight and pressure no much for mine.
"Say it" she demands.
"I won't" I say my breaths slow and forced.
"You're a rotter," she yells at me, slapping my across the face again.
"Stop that" I hear a voice yell; the grip on me is released a bit, as she tries to see who dares to stop her.
The girls face comes into view. Becca the girl that sat beside me, moments before the attack.
"And who are you? You little twerp?" she demands at her, she drags me up with her as she confronts Becca.
"Leave her alone" Becca says, her tone small and scared.
"Its okay" I puff out.
"Its not okay" Becca says, her eyes rest on mine.
"I don't need any help" I argue, avoiding her look "thanks anyway"
"Hear that twerp, beat it unless you won't some scares to" the girl sneers at Becca the top of my top is gripped more roughly, as I get shoved to the ground again.
"Say it" the girl demands at me, she forces her weight on me "say what you really are"
Her hands come in front of my face, they clench into fists. "Say it or will, I won't hesitate" She spits.
I gulp, I have never been punched before, I have punched people, in the arm, the leg, the stomach, but never have I been punched in the face before, its an area I normally avoid in a fight, but this girl who ever she is means business.
"Say it" she demands at me.
I shake my head, no way am I going to back down. Each year I have proven my strength by never backing down. I have stood my ground firm to each and every student who gave me a hard time ever since I was six years old.
Her fist connects with my face, pain flashes through me. A smile creeps across her face. Seeing the pain burst out through my eyeballs.
"Say it Styles daughter" she demands.
I shake my head, I try to suck in a breath, before I can her fist connects once again to my face.
Pain once again flashes through me.
"Say it" she demands. She pins me down harder underneath her.
Again I'm too stubborn to give up. I shake my head at her. Pain aches in my neck.
My arms pinned to my side.
The third blow, I taste blood in my mouth, my cheeks feel red and sticky.
"Your stubborn" she cries at me "you won't say it" she sighs at me.
I beg that this ordeal be over.
One last blow to my face satisfies her.
"I'll be back Styles daughter," she vows as her friends and her walk off seeing the teachers handing our way.
I lay there for a while; the teachers and students walk over me to get into class. I feel like I'm invisible. The pain throbs in both my cheeks and my nose. I shut my eyes; willing myself to get up, wash off the blood check out the damage and head to class.
When I open my eyes again, I open them because a soft hand is touching my arm.
"Becca" I say my eyes struggle to focus on her face.
"Are you okay?" she asks her face small.
"I think so," I say, and my right hand brushes over my face, blood is on my cheeks. I sigh.
"Is anything broken can you stand?" she asks, I look in her eyes, and the eyes tell me she is concerned about me I've only seen eyes like that once before in hospital. When I was twelve mother came over to visit me, she was driving and she was driving fast, the music was up loud. We never spoke. We slammed into a tree after a car took a corner to quick and slammed into the driver's side. The tree was on the left side my side. I had a broken leg, and a broken arm. I lost so much blood; the nurse was scared I wouldn't make it. Mother was in care to, but she was okay, the air bag saving her life. The nurse looked at me with the same eyes that Becca has now.
"I'm fine," I say to her. Her eyes go softer. They remind me of mother eyes. All though were tear-filled when she told me after my thirteen birthday that she was going back. I had invited both my Mother and Father to my birthday in hope to get them back together, they argued again and thinks went back to before.
I prop my elbows up, and attempt to stand. Becca tries to drag me up with one arm.
"Thanks" I say finding my feet.
"No worries, going to tell the principle?" she asks.
"No" I say firmly to her.
"But she just punched you" she protests.
"No it's fine, I'm use to it," I tell her.
"You can't be use to that," she argues.
"I am" I say my eyes rest on hers "thanks any way"
"Does trouble always find you?" she asks.
"No" I tell her confidently "I normally find it"
Which is true, each year since year one, I would be the one to start a fight, to prove something, I was strong, I was tough, if I had the courage to fight the mean person of the class then it meant stand down, back of leave and leave me alone.
This year was the first time the mean person found me.
My hand went to my face. I looked at my blood on my finger tips.
"I'll come with you" Becca said, walking beside me as I found the girls toilets.
I leaned over the basin, and washed my face with cold water.
"Does this hurt?" Becca asked her fingers sliding over my nose.
"Ow" I cried out as pain shot through me I blinked as the pain eased.
"Guess it does" she says softly "sorry"
"No worries" I say through a forced tone. I splashed more water on my face avoiding my nose.
"Is it broken you reckon?" Becca asked, I turned to her my face dripping with water, I blinked the drops away, my eyes rested on hers.
"I don't know," I said.
Broken I wondered, could that girl just broken my nose?
"You got lovely hair" Becca says "just like your Mother" she fingered my hair softly.
If you went back a few years, and someone said that to me even in a nice way, I'd have fought who ever said that, big or small. With Becca it felt different for her to say it, I decided not to start a fight with her since she seemed helpful.
"I'm not her daughter," I mouthed.
"You do have a smile like Harry's though" she commented "do the smile let me see"
I shook my head "I haven't done that's smile for ages" I told her.
My mind lingered to the last time I did it. I use to do it every day when I was five. I use to like to look in the mirror and do it, it would make me feel better, and thinking although my Father wasn't my biological Father I still had a little something from him. I use to stare at my eyes, and pretend there were my mothers, and she was always with me.
"Why did she do that?" Becca asked waking me from my thoughts.
"You mean the bully?" I asked her.
"Yea why did she beat you up?" she asks nodding at me.
"I wouldn't say what she wanted," I explain.
"Why didn't' you? You could have avoided this?" she says gesturing around my face.
"I've got a no back down attitude" I tell her, "I won't never just give in"
I settled my back on the sofa, I shut my eyes. My mind wandered to my daughter, she is a million miles away attending some private High School. She would be a year eleven this year; I had been out of her life for eleven years. Showing my face once in a blue moon or so, just so she would remember me. I knew she would remember me, and the memories weren't sweet. She tried many times to get us back together. Harry Styles the name rested on my mind. It always brought a tingle of guilt ever since the bitter break up. I had seen him a few times in my visits to the UK to see Darcy. But never had I talked to him about all the things on my mind, the things that lingered through my thoughts and weighed down my heart. I knew he was in no better state then I was. Eleven years ago we were torn by lie's, which his ex girlfriend created.
I found out the truth from my manager. After three months I built enough courage to look at her in the face and demand a few things from her. I never challenged her in my life before. I never demanded anything from her. But I felt there were things going unsaid. She told me all of the story, a story which shocked me and broke me further. She had contacted Harry's ex, she had forced her to come round the first time and then the second time at our anniversary to split us in two. She claimed she was un happy with the amount of albums I was producing thinking a split and a broken heart would force me to work. For a few months she was right I worked harder I tried hard not to think of the mess, the hurt and the regret. So I pushed myself to write, to sing, too feel a connection with music, which I hadn't had before. In my state of sorrow I did produce two more albums in less then nine months. She was pleased but I was torn.
I still had feelings for Harry I regretted my actions. But for to long have I lived in the past, begging to fix all the things I did. But I knew I could take control and push my future in a direction with a little less stress. I was in my late thirty's still carrying around the guilt. I had eleven years to straighten my head and heart out. To decide what I wanted for my life, decide what I could give, and what I could fix. I had taken so much; I had never given any one anything.
One slip up sent me down a hill with nothing to grip onto, but this year. It would different. I had heard the stories of how Harry's band mates swapped their music careers for love, and family. I was willing to do that, I had a push and drive to do what was right for the first time.
I couldn't heal the years I was out of Darcy's life; I couldn't apologise or be sorry. The years alone taught me many things; I hoped if I was given the chance I'd be a better Mum or Wife someday. I hope that day would be sometime this year. I shut my eyes imagining doing what was right, to me even in my mind it seemed right it had to be done.
Talking about the past opens the wounds again which never fully healed for me. I damaged Darcy, and I broke Taylor. I was now my mid thirty's, I was still trying to block out the memories the images that played on my mind. The terrible time when everything I loved was split down the middle. I wasn't sure Taylor forgave me, I wasn't sure if Darcy did either. It worried me to the point of depression. The only comfort was my apartment and the arms of the mates that had help me build a career, which supported me.
The group you may have known many years ago as One Direction. Was slowly becoming a thing of the past, well really it was, a new band for a new generation was slowly forming. The band mates were settling down, swapping money and music for love and happiness. Work was limited, we sang a bit here and bit there. We kept it together to support me, cause they knew I had nothing else. I gripped desperately to the shreds of the group left. My voice was different, I was different, we all had changed, and what was once upon a time One Direction was now breaking into four directions. With myself still aiming for something out of reach, a happy ending.
Sixteen my daughter would be sixteen this year. I wanted badly to see her. But she didn't want to see me. I heard all about her from Zayn, and his to be fiancé Sonya. She lived with them for eleven years. I wished I had brought her up now that I look back. Because her life was crumbling slowly, one brick at a time it was all my fault I realised. But I couldn't mend the past, I realised that, I could only try to fix the future. I'd be there in a blink if Darcy ever asked for me, if she ever called. But she didn't want me in her life, scared I'd leave her again. Her heart never mended I knew what she longed for because I longed for it to.
I stared myself in the mirror and I sighed Harry Styles, I thought to myself, what have you done with eleven years of your life? You've gone dull, not life like, and disconnected. I knew what I needed to do but, doing it seemed harder then thinking about doing it, I had too much time to think in those eleven years. I dared myself to call Taylor to get her to listen to me, hear me out. Surely eleven years later it wouldn't be like before?
I didn't know what to think of Becca, she was weird, she was strange and she was caring. Never really had any body comforted me, apart from the nurse but she was meant to care. Becca didn't need to care for me; she didn't need to try to stand up to the bully. She didn't need to be here but she was I slightly admired that.
"Styles daughter" I heard a voice cry, outside the toilet's.
"It's the principle," I whisper to Becca.
We both hurry out to see the principle glaring at us. His round brown eyes rest on my face.
"You nurse" he say's "you class" he glances at Becca.
I drag myself to the nurse's office, with the principle by my side.
"Styles daughter" the principle says "got yourself into more trouble, again we start the year of like this" he sighs.
"Her names Darcy, she isn't just Styles daughter" Becca says following me from the side, I thought she had gone to class.
"I told you to go to class," he tells her.
"She needs my help" Becca protest.
"Don't you dare Miss" he says "class"
Becca gulps, I can see she isn't you to confronting the principle. She's doing it for my sake. I start to feel guilty.
"Its fine Becca" I say "go to class"
She studies me, and I nod at her. And she rushes off.
"Got a team?" enquires the principle.
"No" I tell him "she's just trying to be helpful"
"You need help," he tells me "help which I will get you"
I sigh, "Okay" I say.
"Go to the nurses office, and met me in my office in ten" he says.
I nod, and rush off. This process I have done a lot of times in my life. Normally bringing in a bashed up girl to the nurses office I do mostly. But this year it's me. A first time for everything I guess.
"Nurse" I say knocking on the door softly.
"Darcy" the nurse says. She knows me without even turning around. She knows me well.
"Who is it this time?" she asks, she spins around.
"Me" I tell her. She looks in disbelief.
"OH" she says, obviously shocked; she gestures to the bed, which I lay down on.
"Trouble found you?" she asks as she looks around for the things she needs.
"I got kicked in the tush," I tell her.
"The face more like it" she says pulling up a chair next to the bed.
"I guess," I say, as she wipes my face with antiseptic, which stings.
"Why do you do it Darcy?" she asks.
"Why do I do what?" I ask her, and watch her dab at my cuts on my face.
"You know, bash people up, allow yourself to get bashed up" she says.
"Hey" I protest, as my face burns with a stinging sensation "I never ever get bashed up, I'm normally the basher"
She smiles "So it seems Darcy, but this girl was no match for you this year"
I sigh, as the burning continues.
"Is anything broken?" she asks, as the antiseptic brushes across my nose.
I flinch with the touch, as the reminder of pain spreads through my face.
"That does" I tell the nurse in a forced voice.
"Broken" she says and wiggles it a bit, forcing pain through my trembling skin.
"Don't," I cry out to her. She stops her actions.
"Do you hate the first day that much?" she asks, as she rubs cream upon my wound's.
"What do you mean?" I ask looking at her.
"You always end up here or someone that you bashed ends up here on the first day of each new year" she explains.
"I hate each day," I say with a sigh.
"The principles going to go through with contacting your parents" she explains.
"How do you know?" I ask, I find myself in disbelief that my fate is sealed before I get a chance to explain.
"You're the talk of every staff meeting," she explains "the principle blames your Aunt and Uncle"
"Oh please I've been there for eleven years," I tell her.
"Exactly" she says.
"Exactly what?" I ask my eyes brows raise slightly.
"It doesn't matter Darcy," she says. And applies Band-Aids over my face.
"It does" I protest at her "tell me"
"The principle might talk to your social worker and ask about moving you" she sighs"
"To where?" I ask sitting bolt up right.
Her hands go's to rest me down again, trying hard to calm me. "Relax Darcy," she tells me softly "Its all just talk any way"
"You know where" I protest, "tell me"
"Relax firsts," she says.
I try my best to relax. I shut my eyes.
"There thinking of sending you to your Aunts" she says smoothly. My eyes flash open and stare up at her.
"Which one?" I ask curiously.
"Someone over your Fathers side" she explains " a lady named Gemma or Gem or something"
I sigh "Yea, an Aunt that I don't know" I tell her.
"Its all just talk" she says she pats me on the shoulder.
"Yea" I say, and start to sit up "thanks"
"Always a pleasure to see you" she says "except when I see you like this"
I smile "I know, what about the nose?" My fingers slide over my sore nose making me flinch even though my actions are delicate and quite soft.
"Hospital" she says, she hands me a slip, "at the right time hand it to the principle"
"Thanks" I tell her.
I make way out the door. "Darcy" she says causing me to turn back to her "Stay out of trouble" I sigh at her and smile "I mean it at least try" I nod.
"Styles daughter is here" my secretary tells me, I nod. And my office door swings open. In steps the daughter of Styles, her face in band aids looking sore.
"Sit" I tell her, I sigh as she sits on the chair.
"What it this time?" I ask her, folding my hands to lean them on the desk.
"Trouble found me," she says. Her eyes avoid mine.
"Obviously, and this year we take action" I tell her.
She gives no response at all. No gesture no slight movement nothing.
"Your going to be an adult soon Darcy, these are kids games, okay you should have grown up" I tell her.
"I didn't hit anybody this year" she protest's "someone hit me"
"You didn't hit anyone yet," I tell her "that doesn't mean you won't"
"I've got to go to the hospital," she tells me. I roll my eyes.
"What's broken?" I ask her.
"The nose" she says, her fingers slide over her nose, I see the pain in her eyes.
"Okay well after this you can go" I tell her she stops her actions resting her hands on her legs. "Why do you do this?" I ask her.
"Reaction" she says simply.
"You like this reaction?" I ask her in disbelief "you like to punch and be punched?"
"This will heal," she tells me "something's won't," she says.
"The break up was over eleven years ago," I say with a sigh.
"That doesn't matter" she protests "they might get back together"
I hang my head. "Its not possible, but this stuff you've been doing for over eleven years has to stop" I tell her.
"It will" she says, her blue eyes for the first time looking into mine "when they start to care about me, when my life starts being worth something"
"Its worth something now" I say "you just waste it with fighting and making enemies"
"Can I go now?" she asks.
"I'm not done," I cry "your going to have to start to listen to it, okay, start changing"
She sighs. "Now you can go" I tell her "come back half decent"
She stands up, and leaves. I turn to my drawer and flick through folders, my fingertips resting on her folder. I pull it out and place it on my desk. Time for real action I decide opening it up.
"Hi" I say into the phone, balancing Eloisa on my hip.
"Hi EL" says a voice with a sigh.
"Sonya" I say into the phone "how are you? What's wrong?"
"You know the same, Darcy again," she says.
"Hmm" I say to her "what's she done now?"
"This time someone got to her first" she explains "she's got a broken nose, I have to take her to hospital"
"Oh my, apart from that is she okay?" I ask Sonya concerned.
"She's fine, all the normal stuff" Sonya says.
"Who's that?" My husband Louis asks eyeing my up and down, at how I'm balancing the phone and Eloisa.
"Sonya" I whisper to him, and gesture for him to take our daughter.
"K" he says and takers Eloisa from me, I cradle the phone and listen to Sonya explain the in's and the outs of the trouble.
I sigh. It's all no news to me.
Darcy, the troubled teen fighting back, for the first time someone dared to push her buttons and take the first punch at her. It was nothing new. I heard this every year for the eleven years, all the trouble Darcy had caused. She was a girl lashing out against everyone. All because they pushed her buttons and said some insults. I understood perfectly, but I mean really eleven years of fighting back hadn't got her far. She made it clear don't push me, don't talk to me, she made enemies not friends.
Sonya ringing meant trouble, trouble with Darcy. I held Eloisa close to my chest, and her(light brown eyes peered up at me.
„What's up Eloisa?" I asked.
"Down" she said, and started to wiggle from my grip.
I sighed and let her down.
Being a married man was a challenge at first. I was the first to get married in the group. And I felt the pressures of every thing; well we both did in the first year. Fans who were dedicated still to us, wanted us split up. Our plans to start a family put on hold, as we battled out with them. Eventually, we made it clear, these were our lives, and our choices and we would be staying together.
Then when EL got pregnant, we went through a battle of our own between each other. We were first time parents; we were at it each other. Even before Eloisa was born, we didn't know if we would be able to make it through the nine months together. It was a whole new experience for me, and her I tell you. The day Eloisa was born was the most beautiful moment in both our lives.
We again changed and we became a strong close nit family built on love. Eloisa shook up our world. I tell you that, she took up our hours together and our talks together. Any time we were trying to have time to each other, Eloisa wanted us with her. It was impossible, but together we knew we could manage it. We did. EL is expecting our second baby in eight months or so. I don't know how Eloisa will go sharing us.
She's three and demanding. Terrible threes I agree with that tip to toe.
"Eloisa" I call seeing her reach for a glass on the coffee table.
Her short brown wavy hair swings, and her face locks on to mine staring right at me.
"Don't Love leave it" I plea.
She looks at me, and the glass of milk. And rushes over for a cuddle.
EL, walks in seeing us cuddle.
"Hey baby bunch," I say to her. Which gives me a smile, with a sweet blush.
"What is it now?" I ask her referring to Sonya's call.
"Oh Darcy broke her nose, and Sonya is preparing to give her a hard time, the principle wants to get in contact with Haz's sister Gemma" she explains.
"What why?" I ask her in disbelief.
"The principle wants Darcy to live with her for a while see if it changes her" she replies.
"Does Darcy know this?" I ask.
"Nah, she'll know tomorrow, or today if Sonya breaks it to her" she says.
"Broken nose," I say thinking of how Darcy could have done that, she's normally the fighter not the fighted.
"Yea someone took the first blow at her" El says and wraps her arms around Eloisa and myself.
I rest my head on her shoulder, and I feel content then ever. In the back of my mind, a voice is in my head though, Darcy's voice a voice yelling help, help me, save me. I close my eyes, and wish for better things for her.
I put the key into the lock and turn the lock, the door pops open, Darcy walks through the front door.
"You've done it this time young lady," I tell Darcy as we step through the door of home.
"Yep" she says her voice is pained as she holds tissues to her nose.
"Still hurt?" I asked half concerned.
"Yes" she says, and sits herself on the lounge. Titling her head back slightly.
"What happened?" I ask her.
"Nothing" she replies.
"Nothing" I cry out to her "don't give me nothing, you've got band aids over your face your nose is broken, and nothing happened"
"Nothing" she repeats.
"Darcy do you mind," I cry to her.
"I do mind," she says.
"Don't get smart," I warn her "now tell me honestly what happened"
"I don't want to" she says.
I drag her off the lounge to look at me.
"Tell me" I demand annoyed.
"I'm in pain" she protests "talk about it later"
"NO Darcy, its always later talk now tell me what happened," I say.
"Whatever" she says her eyes roll around.
"Do you know what the principle suggested as a solution?" I ask her.
"What?" she says, shifting the tissue on her nose.
"Your Aunt Gemma might have to take you in," I explain.
"I don't know her," she protests.
"Your suppose to know us" I state "and look how you treat us"
"I treat you fine," she protests.
"At arms length Darcy, at a safe distance away, you treat us fine" I tell her.
"You're taking this to far," she cries.
"Am I?" I demand.
Her eyes slide over mine, before resting on the floor.
"Tell me what happened," I demand at her forcefully.
"I don't want to" she says.
I hang my head.
"Eleven years Darcy, and I barely know you," I say.
"I like it that way" she cries.
"You like it what way?" I demand.
"I like it that you don't know me, I don't want to know any body" she snaps angrily.
She starts to march of to her room, before I grab her arm spinning her around to face me.
"The pain will heal," I say to her, and she knows what I mean, its nothing about the pain in her nose. "This is no way to get their attention, it won't get them back together"
"Its not about them" she whispers softly, so gently to me.
"Its all about them" I cry at her "you do this for a reaction, to push buttons to get people annoyed, so that things get so bad that someone phones them"
"Well that's what's going to happen" she says in a matter of fact tone "and so it should they should know, and they should care"
"They always care," I say gently.
"Sure" she says. And I let her march away, slamming her door as she goes. I sit back on the lounge. And rest my head in my hands. What do I do now? I wonder.
Care, they don't care, my stars they care. I switch on the radio, and guess what plays? A Taylor Swift song. I turn it up not down. It's comforting to hear her sing. It is comforting to know her voice. I glance at my walls. I'm the fan I realise; I'm the fan not the daughter. I'm a fan wanting them to cross my paths one day.
The song stops playing, and I burst into tears, the bloody tissue slipping from my trembling fingers to the floor. I hold my head in my hands, the pain from my nose still there. I couldn't care though, cause the pain in my heart is much worse. I lie down upon my bed and stare up to the ceiling, wishing for a better life.
My mind wanders to the day, which I had to choose between them. Choose who I loved more, who I wanted to be with more. I couldn't choose them. Although I loved them more then anybody in the courtroom. My hoped was drained when I was told they couldn't have me back, reality sipped in. I couldn't put them back together; there would be no fairy tale ending.
~ Next Morning
"Sit down" says Sonya gesturing to me to a chair in the kitchen.
"Got to dash," I say, grabbing breakfast.
"No, sit I'll drive you," she tells me. I sigh and sit down peeling my banana.
She looks at me, I know she wants to ask me something; I give her a look like please don't. She ignores the look, like she does when she's in a certain mood.
"Who bashed you?" she asks.
I breathe and sigh at her.
"I don't know" I find myself admitting.
"Stay out of trouble today?" she asks.
"Maybe" I mouth, eating my banana.
"Lets go we can talk in the car" she says, she stands up make a move out the kitchen door and wills me to follow her.
I sigh, I grab my bag, say a short greeting to my Uncle, and rush to catch up with my Aunt.
As we drive along my Aunt turns to me.
"Anything you want to talk about?" she enquires.
"Not a thing" I tell her, thinking it will get her to stop trying to talk with me.
"Sure?" she questions.
"Sure" I echo.
"Really Darcy we never speak isn't there a thing you have to say?" she asks.
"Not a thing" I tell her.
"Sixteen this year, that's a milestone" she says softly.
"Yea" I say realising she won't be given in until we reach the school grounds.
"Have you got your menstrual yet?" she enquires.
"I don't know what that is, but I reckon that's personal" I say.
"See, we should talk about these things, you're old enough to know" she tells me.
"Don't worry we have sex ed at school" I say reassuringly to her.
"Sex ed," she says. I find myself wondering what sex ed is, I think about asking her what it is, but then I realise that's what sex ed is for to ask questions not that I attend to ask.
"Yea sex ed, they'll teach me, save you the trouble" I tell her.
"It's not about saving me the trouble," she protests.
"Whatever" I say and stare out the window.
"I'll pick you up after school," she tells me.
"I don't need you to, I can catch the bu..." I am cut short.
"No you're not catching the bus," she says firmly. "I will pick you where I drop you of at exactly three, twenty five"
I nod in reluctant agreement and we don't speak to the school grounds.
~ School Grounds
"See ya," I tell my Aunt climbing out.
"Bye Darcy take care" she says, she scans my face, and the Band-Aids are all funny, because I didn't ask this morning for any help after I had a shower to stick them on. I never ask for any help.
I close the door, and sigh, that's journeys over now for this one. I scan around, looking for the bully who hit me. I find her nowhere. I do find Becca though, standing a short distance away, looking nervous, she see's me and starts to walk towards me.
"Hi Darcy" she say's "you okay now?" she scans my face carefully.
"Better" I say and we start to walk of to class.
"Did they fix your nose?" she asks curiously.
"Yea" I tell her.
"You're the talk of the class," she tells me.
"Already?" I ask, I find myself grinning.
"Yea really" she says "they called you pathetic, I told them that's not true"
"You don't need to stick up for me" I tell her "I can do that myself"
"I know that but I want to" she say's "anyway you are Styles daughter"
I roll my eyes, surprisingly it doesn't sound like an insult.
"Really" I say to her. We stand outside room sixteen.
"Really, but I like you, you have a different identity to your parents, your Darcy to me" She says her eyes are soft and warm a look I have never in my life seen.
"Thanks" I say to her my hand goes to the knob of the door of room sixteen.
"I'm Becca," she says, she holds out her hand like she did yesterday "Becca Everston"
I smile at her, and hold my spare hand out to her, and we shake hands, something I have never done that before.