500 Days of Styles (1D FanFic)

Day 86

Day 86

I pried my eyes open, groaning at how uncomfortable the bed felt beneath me. I never thought I would miss Alex and I's tiny apartment as much as I did, but trust me, I definitely did.

I grumbled as I forced myself to get up, throwing my hair into a messy ponytail.

I wiped my eyes as I looked over myself in the mirror. I definitely hadn't missed this room, and I wasn't very happy to be in it now.

"Merry fucking Christmas," I muttered to myself. Today was Christmas and I was back home in Ohio. Also known as the place I least wanted to be right now.

I left my room, still in my pajamas, hoping my parents would be at least semi-conscious. I set my hopes too high. Much too high.

My mother was passed out literally in the middle of the family room, having not even made it to the couch. Her saliva saturated the carpet, and my only sign she was alive was her light, labored breathing.

I scoffed, disgusted, and turned to try to find my father.

He had at least made it to the bed, but seemed in about the same state as my mom. I shook my head, knowing I should have been expecting this, but still could hardly believe it. I was the kid. Shouldn't I be the one going out, getting drunk and stoned, and coming home at ridiculous hours?

I trudged into the kitchen, making some coffee for myself, and hopefully my parents if they ever came back to life.

As I waited for the coffee to brew, my eyes swept across the house I'd grown up in. It looked the same as it had when I left. Messy. Because my parents didn't believe in putting up a fake front of cleanliness. You had to be yourself, including in your mess. They had their own, fairly unique philosophies for most things.

My eyes continued to search before landing on their sad excuse for a Christmas tree. It was only about three feet tall and looked like it hadn't been watered in two weeks, which I'm sure it hadn't. It didn't even have ornaments or a star. It was just a dying, baby tree in the middle of the house. Kind of like me, huh? And of course, there wasn't a single present in sight. My parents didn't really believe in presents because they thought they just encouraged selfishness.

I shook my head, wondering how I had even survived in this house for 18 years.

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I collapsed onto my bed, exhausted from cleaning up not only the house, but also my parents. The house was a mainly hopeless cause, but I did what I could manage. And for my parents; I'd force fed them both coffee and Advil when they finally woke up and then helped them find their ways back into bed to sleep off their hangovers.

This was pretty much the same Christmas I'd had every year, and I was sure getting sick of it.

I grabbed my cell phone, dialing Harry's familiar number, figuring he'd be done with his own family Christmas dinner by now.

"Hey babe," he answered, his voice full of joy. Whenever he talked about his family, his whole face would light up, so I'm sure he loved visiting with them.

"Hey Harry," I said, smiling for the first time since I'd arrived at this hell hole.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas to you too. How's your family?"

"They're great, actually. They really want to meet you."

"And I can't wait to meet them," I replied honestly. The way Harry talked about his family, made me desperately want to meet the people who had so positively influenced him.

"Good. I'll make sure it happens soon. What about you? Things good in Ohio?"

Harry didn't know about my fucked up family situation, and I didn't think now was really a good time to tell him. "Yeah, just fine," I lied. "Everyone's great."

"Any good presents?" he asked playfully.

I bit my lip, racking my brain for an appropriate response. "Not really. Just some knick-knacks and such. My family was never big on gifts. What about you?"

"Yeah, just various things. Nothing major."

We continued to talk for a while before saying good night and hanging up, considering it was pretty late in the UK.

I laid on my back on top of my bed and let out a loud sigh. I was going to have to tell Harry about my family at some point; but when?