Monsters Inside Him (Completed)

Chapter 49: Moving on

Chapter 49: Moving On

Stupid, fucking, fucked-up, asshole, dick, cunt-face, jerk, pussy, bastard, son-of-a-bitch, motherfucker, shithead…

I ran through all the words in my limited vocabulary that could describe Zayn.

In less than 24 hours he broke up with me, go a crying Eleanor to pack up my stuff and plopped me on a plane. Yes, a plane. I looked out the tiny window down into the endless blue of the Atlantic Ocean.

How many times did I want to run away? How many times did I dream of hopping on a flight and leaving him behind? How many times did I actually try to escape him? Now that it was all happening, I just wanted to go back.

Zayn’s an abusive asshole who needs to control everything and everyone. He’s possessive and hates sharing anything from his gang’s turf to his women. He’s a feared man, known for his violent temper all across London. He’s caused people pain and misery, without even thinking twice about it.

And as horrible as that all sounds, I loved him. I loved the way he would argue with me. Yeah, he may have been abusive, but I gave it right back to him. I didn’t put up with his shit at all. I loved the way he would take care of me, making me meals because I couldn’t cook for shit. I loved the way he would hold me when no one else was looking. I loved the way he would turn into this sweet and caring gentleman behind closed doors.

I loved the way he looked at me.

Even when we were in the worst of fights, he wouldn’t stop looking at me with adoration.

He loved me.

And now, he left me.

Well, technically I was leaving him, but he forced me to. Literally. Like he dragged me into the car from our flat. He had to lock the car doors to prevent me from running. He carried me onto the plane, set me down in the chair and buckled me in before kissing my forehead and telling the plane to leave.

All the other passengers were seated. When they saw Zayn and his girl coming along I couldn’t even imagine the fear they felt. Zayn just drove right up to the terminal. I guess I forgot that Zayn Malik is Zayn Malik. I forgot just how powerful he was over these people. So, I guess he got to skip customs…

Dumbass jerkface.

The good-byes were the hardest part. I, surprisingly, had grown attached to the family of misfits that I had been forced into.

Saying good-bye to Eleanor was all tears and hugging and crying and more tears and sobbing until Louis and Zayn had to pull us apart. Louis gave me a light hug and told me

“I’ll miss your antics, that’s for sure. I hope everything works out well for you.” Before giving me a kiss on the cheek and then turning to comfort Eleanor. Liam gave me a half hug. Out of all the boys, I think I knew the least about Liam. But, like Zayn, he made Danielle leave him for her own safety. The only difference is, she went willingly.

Niall engulfed me in a quick hug and then muttered something about it getting boring.

“Without you around, it’ll be a helluva lot more boring, that’s for sure.” I think is what he said.

Harry opened his arms for a hug, but I responded with my middle finger. Like fuck I’ll hug him. Of course, this started an argument between the two of us.

“Really? I’ll never be seeing you again and that’s how you want to end it? I think the old bitch is back, Zayn.” He snarled. I rolled my eyes and stuck up my other middle finger, too.

“Fuck you Harry. People like you have a special place in the center of hell.”

“I’ll save you a spot right next to me, love.” He smirked at me. Zayn caught me just as I lunged for his throat and pulled me back. I tried to push him out of the way to get to Harry, but Zayn was too strong.

“This isn’t over!” I shouted at him as Zayn began to push me out the door.

“I think it is, have fun in America!” Harry called with a chuckle, knowing he had won the argument.

“You think I won’t be back? I’ll be back!” Was the last thing I called to all of them, Harry in particular. Of course I would be back. That wasn’t good-bye, right? It couldn’t be good-bye.

If Zayn thought this was actually good-bye then he obviously underestimated me.

Seriously.

The whole car ride I told Zayn exactly how I felt about what he was doing. Mixing in some colorful adjectives and crude hand gestures, I think I got my point across. Zayn sat there and took it like a man, but I could tell he wanted our final time together to be peaceful.

Well, fuck him. Our whole relationship was a violent mess, so I thought that’s how our last moments should be, too.

And now I’m on a plane and I didn’t even tell him I loved him before I left, forced to leave. I ignored all of the sympathetic looks I received from the other passengers. Even the flight attendants seemed to know who Zayn was.

The couple sitting next to me was obviously scared out of their mind. They didn’t say a word to me the entire trip.

But I didn’t care.

“Excuse me miss, but you have to get off the flight now.” Someone gently pushed my shoulder.

“Mmm.”

“Miss, miss?” I jolted upright and rubbed my eyes. A stewardess stood over me with that fake smile plastered to her face. She helped me out of the seat and waited behind me as I stumbled off the plane.

Great. What do I do know?

I wandered through the airport down to baggage. I waited behind everyone else until no one was left. Then, I grabbed the remaining bags, which were mine, and headed over to the payphones.

“Mama,” I whimpered into the phone, “can you come pick me up at JFK.” She knew it was serious, so I was glad when she didn’t press for an explanation. She just told me to wait by the bus pick up and she’d be there as fast as she could.

Twenty minutes later, my family’s recognizable minivan pulled up in front of me and my mother rushed out.

She looked the same as when I left her a year ago. Her blond, curly hair was pulled up in a loose bun with grey streaks running up the sides. She was still slightly overweight, but wore clothing that flattered her body.

She ran up to me and immediately pressed me into a bone-crushing hug. I hugged her back, wrapping my lanky arms around her and buried my head on her shoulder. She may have been shorter than me but she still managed to hold me tightly to her as if I was just a toddler again.

“Baby, I missed you. I barely got to speak with you at all while you were away. You have to tell me everything. How was that job? How about that boy?” She rambled off in excitement as she pulled away from our hug, her acrylic nails still dug into my shoulders.

I started to sob some more, making her pull me back to her. Her hands rubbed my back as she tried to calm me down.

“It’s ok baby, I’m here now. It’s ok. You’re home.”

The drive home was silent. I knew my mother was dying to ask me questions about my trip, but she could tell I wasn’t ready.

She also knew I needed those few minutes of silence before we got home. My house was anything but silent.

“Now, no one knows you’re home yet. Heck, I only found out an hour ago, so everyone will be a little shocked.” I nodded in response to my mother as I tugged my suitcases from the trunk.

“Jim! Kristen! Frankie! Get in here! I have a surprise!” My mother shouted into the foyer as soon as we stepped inside. Just as I had left it, my house was a mess. Toys and shoes strewn across the halls. Noise clattering from all over. People chattering. Dogs barking. Children screaming.

Home sweet home.

“Barbara, this better be good. I just got Frankie and Kris to stop attacking each-” my father stepped into the foyer as he babbled on about calming down my little siblings.

Like my mother, he was slightly overweight and stood shorter than I. He was balding, but still had enough hair to show that it was all grey. His face had almost no wrinkles though, except the permanent traces etched into his skin from smiling too much.

The second he saw me, his blue eyes lit up.

“Oh my goodness…” He gasped. He looked over me again as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Hannah? Oh god!” He rushed forward and grabbed me in a hug. He squeezed me tightly as if he was afraid that if he’d let go, I’d run off.

“Daddy!” I wrapped my arms around his neck and let my elbows rest along the soft fabric of his sweater on his shoulders.

“My baby girl. I’ve missed you so much!”

“HANNAH!” My seven year old- Well, I had been away a year so he was eight- ran forward and hugged my waist. Not far behind him was the youngest of our troops, little five year old Kristen who mimicked her brother’s actions.

After all the greetings were said, even to the three dogs, two cats, two turtles, my fish, and the four hamsters, I was left alone in my room to unpack. My mother had gone off to call my older brother, David, who no longer lived with us.

He lived with his girlfriend a short ten minute drive down the road, so she invited the two of them over for dinner.

I didn’t feel like eating.

I didn’t feel like unpacking.

I just climbed into bed and cried.

That night, everyone tried desperately to get me out of bed and to come downstairs. David even threatened to make sushi out of my fish, but none of it worked.

In fact, the next four weeks passed similarly.

I barely moved, I barely ate. All I did was sleep- my dreams were much better than the hell of a reality I was living.

In my dreams I was with Zayn. And he would hold me. And kiss me. And laugh with me. And yell at me. And argue with me. And tease me. And cuddle me. And dance with me.

I cried for hours whenever I woke up.

“That’s it. I’m sick of this shit. Hannah, get out of the fucking bed.” David’s voice boomed into my room. I muttered out some curses and hid my head under the covers.

“I’m not playing around.” He ripped the blankets away from me and sat next to me on the bed.

“You go to London to study abroad, meet a boy, get kicked out of school, move in with said random boy, get a random job, and then show up out of the blue like a complete fucking disaster. You have everyone worrying about you. You’re so much paler, and thinner, and duller than you used to be.” He lectured me. It stung to actually hear that I was hurting my family, but I seriously didn’t have the energy to do anything but wallow in my self pity. Maybe I should get antidepressants or some sort of drug to make me feel better.

“We see the scars and cuts and bruises. This fucking cast is hard to miss. You’re going to tell me what happened or I’ll never speak to you again.” He decided.

“You’re such a fucking drama queen.” I tried to turn my back to him, but he grabbed me and pinned me on the bed. Just like he used to when we were little, he climbed on top of me and straddled my waist.

“TELL ME!” He commanded.

“Get off of me, fatty.”

“Just tell me who hurt you. Was it that boy?”

“No. Please. Just… leave it, ok?” I whispered. He looked over me sadly and shook his head.

“I can’t. Whether you like it or not, you’re my baby sister and it’s my job to take care of you and to annoy you to no end. Tell me what happened, please?” He begged me. I shut my eyes tightly and imagined I was just talking to Zayn. It was me and him. I could actually smell his forest-y cigarette scent.

“I loved him. He loved me.” I began, not opening my eyes to destroy the illusion of Zayn that I had before me. I saw every single one of his tattoos. I saw his stubble, and his wild hair. I saw his hazel eyes that were always angry at me, but looked at me adoringly at the same time.

“We were fucked up. Both of us. But that was ok, we were fucked up together.” I felt a ghost of a smile trace over my lips, but as quickly as it came, it went.

“He wasn’t a good guy. He was involved in some things that I’m still not sure of. He was dangerous. But he loved me and that’s all that matters. He took care of me. He provided for me. He challenged me. He completed me.” I could see his muscles tense liked they used to under my touch. I could see his breathtaking smile, his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth.

“But an enemy of his got a hold of me and broke me. He hurt me and did things to me that I’ll never forget. But my love, he saved me. He brought me home and healed me. He made me better. As soon as I began to return to my old self again, he kicked me to the curb. He made me come back here. He said it was for my own good, but I know what’s good for me and it isn’t this. HE’S what’s good for me. He’s the only thing I’ll ever need.” I felt hot tears roll down my cheeks as I pictured Zayn walking towards me.

I saw his large frame reach out for me, but then he was gone and my eyes were open, gauging David’s reaction.

“It doesn’t sound like a good relationship. I know it hurts, but this guy did what he did for the best.” David said quietly. He brought his hand up and wiped away my tears before climbing off of me.

“It wasn’t a good relationship, but he did everything in his power to protect me. I need him David.” I whimpered. David helped me sit up in bed and even got me to swing my legs over the side.

“I know you think you need him, but-”

“It physically hurts my heart when he’s not with me. When he’s not touching me, or holding me, or even yelling at me. It hurts me David.”

“WHAT ABOUT THIS?!” He snapped, holding up my cast in front of my face, “didn’t THIS hurt you? Being around this guy will make things like THIS happen again!”

“This is all that I have left of him.” I cradled my broken wrist in my other hand. I bet it was all better by then, but the cast was the only reminder of him.

“See, Louis signed it, and even Liam and Niall. And look, Eleanor did too. I didn’t let Harry though. Harry’s not allowed to touch me.” I explained. David shook his head at me. I could see him trying to calm himself down, but I don’t think it was working.

“I have no fucking idea who those people are.”

“My other family. Zayn’s family. See, look. Zayn did this. He decorated my cast for me to make it prettier. He’s so talented.” I pointed out all of the intricate designs that were tattooed on my cast. Little swirls and comics. Hearts and flowers. Doodles and words.

“Zayn? Is that the guy’s name?” David asked me as he helped me stand up. I nodded in response and continued to trace the designs lightly with my finger.

“You’ll be ok, kiddo. I’ll make sure of it.”

Over the next two weeks, David tried really hard to make me better. He told my parents what happened. He got my mom to talk to me about Zayn. He got my Dad to take me to the Doctor to get the cast removed. Call me weird, but I kept it. I have it in a little shoebox under my bed and whenever I can’t sleep, which is every night, I pull out the cast and go over the little notes and drawings on it. David even got his girlfriend, Cassie, to set me up on a blind date.

“I’m not going.” I decided after Cassie had done my makeup. She was nowhere as good as Eleanor was at doing makeup, but I didn’t tell her that.

“Oh come on, you don’t have to marry the guy, just go and have some fun.” Cassie smiled broadly at me.

“No is not an option.” David informed me from where he stood watching at the doorway.

“I can’t do this. Please don’t make me.” I begged them, hoping one of them would feel compassion and just let me be.

“Hannah, it’s been six weeks. You’re going out. It’ll help you move on.” He said sternly, telling me there was no arguing with him on this.

“I’ll never move on. This guy can’t compare to Zayn.” I snapped back. Unless this guy was Zayn, there was no way in hell I’d go out with him.

“I’ll drag you there myself, Han. Don’t play with me.” Older brother mode kicked in and the threats started. Unlike other people I knew, David never went through on his threats. They were just kind of… incentives to make me do things. But we all know that adorable little sister always wins.

Well, apparently not in that case because less than thirty minutes later I was sat in the car of some douche named Will.

“Shall we?” He smiled at me as he started the car, making the radio blast redneck country music.

Oh my fucking lord.

“Whatever.” I shrugged as I looked out the window longingly, thinking about what Zayn would have done if he had caught me with Will. Well, Will would end up in the dumpster hanging on for dear life. Me, on the other hand, I had no idea what he would do to me.

But the thing is, I’d rather be with Zayn while he was abusing me than spend a night with this asshole any day.