Daddy

1. Mr. Styles

I sit on my bed, the only thing comforting me is the fluffy duvet and brown bear I got when I was seven. I had no other source of comfort from the yelling downstairs. This was every Saturday and Sunday night. My parents go out separately and drink their lives away. Then they come home and yell out their feelings only to leave again the next day.

This is every weekend. On the weeks isn't always the best either though. Instead of going out, they come here. They bring their friends and are so obnoxious to where I can't even sleep at night. The most I get is three hours, tops. But I'm still good with my grades.

I get A's and B's most of the time. I occasionally get C's but its very unlikely. I hardly have friends but I find it better than being popular. If I have friends, then I'd have to feel obligated to do things that will keep them liking me. Plus, I don't have time for partying and all that going out type of crap.

I wake up at seven, take about twenty minutes getting ready, make breakfast for my parents, go to school for eight hours, come home, clean the whole house, make dinner, clean the kitchen, do homework, sleep, and everything all over again the next day. Notice how I don't take a break. The only break I do have is my homework.

And that's if my parents don't have guests.

I've been beaten many times. Some marks I can't hide but I still try. Even though my parents aren't the best, I still love them. I need to take care of them.

My converse hit the hallway floor in a slow pattern as I was ten minutes early and everyone was in the cafeteria so my feet were audible. Only ten other kids wandered the hallway. As I was going to pass a hall, I fell to the ground. My footsteps no longer audible.

"I'm sorry love." A British voice said above me. My head began to hurt from hitting them. I looked up and saw a guy with curly hair and green eyes. "I was in a rush to find my classroom but I got lost." I stumbled up back on my feet and brushed my butt of without a word. He stared at me for a while before clearing his throat.

"So uh- do you know where B114 is? For English?" He's probably an exchanged student. He doesn't look old. I cleared my throat before speaking.

"I uh- I have that class and I'm on my way now so if you want to follow me or whatever." My voice was quiet and slightly raspy.

"Thank you." I began walking and he soon followed. "So how is this school? Like, community wise." I gave him a confused gaze. "Well how are the students with eachother? How many fights happen in a month; are there any riots; how are they to the teachers? Stuff like that."

"Oh. Well nobody really fights, maybe one happens each month, two at most. They all get along well with eachother. There's groups -the cliche kind- but they don't bully the lower ones."

"What group are you in?" That caught me off guard. "I'm not, no I'm not in any group. I keep to myself. I'd rather have no friends so that I don't have to worry about them instead of my school work." He nodded with a small frown.

"Like I was saying, there are certain teachers that the students like but, then there are the ones that the students can't stand." He chuckled.

"Which is the less liked teacher and the most liked?"

"The most liked is probably Ms. Angel. The guys like her because she's cool and pretty. The girls like her because she's young and has a good sense of fashion. Of course I don't think of that stuff. I just hear it in the halls. I don't like any of the teachers. I practically hate them." I opened the door and walked in. I noticed it was empty. There were no banners on the wall or scribblings on the board.

"What happened to Mr. Warner?" I asked myself. I saw no trace of him anywhere.

"Well now that I'm here I might as well introduce myself. My name is Mr. Styles. Harry Styles. I'm your new English teacher." He had a smirk on his face.

"Uh- ok?" His smirk faltered a bit for some reason. I went to the back and sat down. "Oh uh I will make a seating chart for this class so if you don't mind giving me your name."

"Melanie Fay." I nonchalantly spoke as I took a book from my backpack.

"C3 please."

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry. Middle row number three." That's right in the middle. I hate being in the middle of everything. "That's in the center. I can't be in the center." It gives me anxiety. "I just can't be in the center so can I please just sit where I am or anywhere in the back?"

"Teachers rules love. Sorry." He put a paper down and wrote something on it. I picked my stuff up and trudged to the center. I sat down and my heart quickened. My leg began bouncing up and down the whole time as I waited for the bell to ring. Three more minutes. I couldn't read as my mind was being occupied with the dangers of being in the center. I'll get called on more, kids will see me more, its actually an endless list. The bell rang and my nightmare began.

"Hello class." Mr. Styles said once the class settled with curious faces. "My name is Mr. Styles and your new English teacher." He looked at me directly in the eyes.

"We are going to have so much fun together."

Well then.