Fates a Funny Thing (Niall Horan Fan Fiction)

You all have no idea how thankful I am for all of you! I couldn't have done any of this without y'all amazing readers. Thank you all so much! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long. This long pause was not planned at all. In fact, I've been meaning to sit down and write this chapter for a long time. I just couldn't find the time to though. My sister came home for a bit and we had Christmas and New Years and long story short I've been super busy. Buuuuut I'm back now! Thank you for sticking by me and my story. I love you guys!  

Oh and btw, there's not gonna be a Carrie's Diary in this chapter, just a normal POV.  

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Chapter 28

*Carrie's POV*

*The Next day*

I woke up to a firm hand throwing itself across my cheek in the hotel he had chosen the night before as my newest torture zone. 

"Wake up, you worthless girl."  

The sweet sound of my father's voice.  

I tried to sit up but was quickly shoved down by the lack of blood, food, and water in my body. I was weak, and my fathers abuse wasn't helping.  

"Today's the big day." He said, scarily.  

He silently made his way to the chair I was strapped in and walked behind me, out of sight, making me shake.  

I could soon feel his lips whispering through my hair and into my ear.  

"Today's when you find out how worthless you are. You are scum. You're nothing. Today, you get to fix that."  

I shivered at his harsh words, but I knew deep down he was right.  

My father, who had already gathered his things and taken them out to his truck, unstrapped me from the chair and threw me over his shoulder, covering my bloody clothes and wounds.  

He snuck me out of the hotel, laughing and carrying on like what we were doing was just some quality daddy-daughter time. 

I wish people saw beneath the laughs and fake smiles... 

As soon as we cleared the view of people, any trace of a smile was wiped away as if it had never been there. 

He threw me into the truck and we set out on our way.  

I noticed before we pulled away that the GPS attached to his windshield said something about "airport."  

I cringed.  

"Wh-where are we going?" I stuttered nervously.  

"Home." My father looked at me out of the corner of his eye, slyly.  

At that moment, everything came together. The road signs that read cities near the edge of Britain...  

The constant traveling... 

The reminders of my childhood... 

America.  

We were going back to America.  

We were going back to that house, the one where I was tortured.  

Bloodied. 

Beaten.  

The house where my feeling of worthlessness first began.

*Niall's POV*

We woke up bright and early the next day, just as we had done the previous days.