Chapter Fifty Two

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“Mum…please come downstairs, it’s Christmas Eve.” Zayn asked, as he sat next to his Mother’s bed. His Mother gave a groan from the bed. She’d had another turn, she was getting bad mood swings and her temper was a ticking time bomb.

When Zayn had told Liam and Niall about his relationship with Harry, they’d been accepting about it, and through the last few months, they’d been just as accepting. They supported their relationship, and Zayn even managed to get them all in the same room for an hour or so. Niall and Liam had enjoyed Harry’s company, once they had gotten over the fact that their English teacher was beating them on Fifa, but Zayn hadn’t been happier. His friends and his boyfriend were getting along, but more importantly, his sisters absolutely adored Harry, which meant that the four of them were constantly hanging out at Harry’s house together. They couldn’t go out, or do anything in the public’s eye in case they ever got caught. It was hard trying to remember the fact that Harry was still his teacher. But still, Zayn refused to complain, he was happy, and he wanted to keep it that way, even if his family life was starting to loop back into it’s old ways.

Zayn tugged at the small tubs of pills that were in his Mother’s hands.

“Mum, please!” Zayn begged, trying to stop his Mother from taking anymore. Recently, this had become yet another regular occurrence. Hiding pills, getting rid of pills, and most importantly, forcing them out of his Mother’s hands when she was desperately on edge for them was just another day for him now. But, today was Christmas Eve. The girls were downstairs singing along to a Christmas film on TV while they wrote out letters for Santa, he wanted their Mother to stop being like this and come downstairs, it must have been bad for the baby that she was carrying, but she seemed to have forgotten all about it in her need for pills.

“Zayn Jawaad Malik.” She snapped, batting his hands away from hers and sitting upwards in bed, her eyes glowing with anger. Zayn looked up at his Mother and had to admit he was slightly frightened. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot, her face fairly pale. She looked so much older than she really was.

“It’s Christmas, Mum. Please come downstairs!” Zayn begged her once again, but she looked down at him angrily.

“I’m not well, Zayn, I need rest!” She hissed down at him, and he sat up more and looked at her in outrage.

“You’ve been resting since October! You only think you need rest, but you don’t! Think of the baby, when was the last time you did anything positive for the baby?” Zayn snapped. He couldn’t believe this, he was trying to look after his Mother, like he had done for years and this is the payment he got back. Prising pills from her hands on Christmas Eve. His Mother looked down at him angrily, and the next thing that he knew was the intense stinging sensation that was now located on his cheek. He hissed in pain as he raised his hand to his cheek in pain. He looked up at his Mother in shock. His Mother had never, ever, raised a hand to him, even in the worst of her mood swings. His mother’s dark eyes looked down at him with worry and sadness bottled up inside of them and it appeared that she had probably shocked herself from her own sudden actions. It seemed that they were both trying to process what she had just done, and both struggling with it. Zayn gave a sniff and edged backwards from the bed. He no longer felt wanted or comfortable in his Mother’s presence.

“Zayn…when I say I’m not well, I’m not well.” His Mother told him, her voice coming out shaken, yet harsh. Her hands were shaking, making the small tubs of pills in her hands rattle as well. The rattling of the pills seemed to echo around the bedroom, and the sound was now added into the small space in the back of his mind where the sickening crack of when she had been punched by her Father now dominated.

“You…you slapped me. You know how much Dad hits and beats me and yet you just do it too…on fucking Christmas Eve?” Zayn let out in shock and anger, not really understanding why there were tears flowing over his eyes. His mother stayed quiet and simply stared at him with a painful expression.

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