There Is A First For Everything

FIRST DAY MORNING MISSHAPS.

(It is Louis Tomlimson's first day at his new school. He has recently had to move from England to California due to his fathers death. Louis, this being his first time as a senior in america, is about to encounter so much more than he expected.)

LOUIS' POV:

5:30 AM

I wake up to the sound of WHO LET THE DOGS OUT playing as my phone alarm. I don't know why is till have that as my alarm tone. I used to like that song but now its so annoying, waking up to it everyday.

I roll out of bed, grab a towel from the floor, and walk to the bathroom in the dark. I take off my underwear(yes I slept in just my underwear. Who doesn't?) Whilst in the shower it think about my summer. My thoughts go back to that one day.

It was a normal day like any other. The girls were with my mum at the flat while I was out with my chap Stan at a party. Dad had gone to work like usual and he would be getting home in about an hour. Stan and I drunkingly left the party, got in the car, and drove off. Next thing I know I was outside the car, lying next to passenger side door, which had the glass shattered, in a puddle of blood. I tried to get up bit as soon as I sat up a rush of dizziniss fled over me and I fell back down. So I decided to try looking at my surroundings. I could hear the sirens coming from all around me. I could see the flashing lights getting closer and closer. I could tell that we were on a deserted street because there were no people, houses, or cars around. I moved my head a bit to see if Stan was anywhere around. I could barely see, but I could tell that he was still in the driver's seat because I could hear the car horn going off and it wouldn't stop. He probably hit his head there and fainted in that position. Then I looked over to what we hit. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was wishing that this was all a drunken nightmare. I started crying and moaning and breaking down on the ground. I couldn't believe what mine and Stan's drunkenness had caused. I couldn't even move over to touch the man because before I knew it I was being carried into the ambulance and being whisked off to the hospital. Once I was in the ambulance I was put on some gas and then I blacked out. I woke up three days later with my family all around me except for one person. I remember myself shouting at nothing because I had remembered the night while my family just stared at me and tried to stay strong. My mom tried to comfort me and tell me that it wasn't my fault but I just yelled at her through my guilt and anger. Thankfully nothing serious had happened to me or Stan, only the lifelong scar of knowing that we had killed someone. Three days later we went to the funeral of th person I killed and I couldn't take it. Near the end of the service I was the only one left and my family left because my mom said I needed reassurance and some time to feel better. She, as the rest of the family, was a wreck herself but stayed strong because that's what he would've wanted her to be. I stayed and the last words I ever said in England were, "I'm sorry Dad."