Age is but a Number & State of Mind (Fan Fiction - Harry Styles/Liam Payne)

S1E2

It's been five days since the incident and I'm still keeping the little anxiety I have left bottled up inside. I don't really have the courage to tell anyone about my frequent nightmares. Mainly because sometimes they don't even make sense, but there's a dream I have most nights about a terrifying man charging at me. He doesn't have a face and I can't move or run to save my life. It's not until I close my eyes that I am suddenly sitting across from Harry Styles, and then I'm leaning into his chest as he strokes my hair; he makes me feel safe.

I now have a hard time trusting people and I try to perceive myself as strong. However, I secretly panic when I'm in an unfamiliar place. I get that I was lucky and that the previous encounter had a better outcome than others, but I suppose I worry about getting hurt physically or mentally again. I'm teaching myself not to dwell on the subject by preoccupying myself with other things. I find that it helps.

Today's New Year's Eve, and my family is flying in from St. Augustine. I've never looked forward to their visits. My mom's sister and her husband have exceedingly rich attitudes. They're arrogant people who like to gloat about their accomplishments. I'm pretty sure my parents (they would still be humble people, even if mom wasn't an elementary teacher and dad an electrician) or anyone else for that matter wouldn't mind joining them in doing so if they made that much money from the well-profited oil company known as ConocoPhillips. My aunt and uncle inherited the corporation after my grandparents died, making them very wealthy. As you can see, aunt Susan was the favorite daughter, until they passed away of course; you can only imagine how my mom was treated throughout her childhood just by this simple act.

Their kids, on the other hand, are self-centered, bratty, and spoiled all the time. I remember hearing one Christmas about Tabitha, who is now sixteen and whose name is extremely ugly, got a car for her fourteenth birthday. During the party, her four-year-old brother, Eric, also received a present, even though his birthday wouldn't be for another five months. When it comes to everyone else, aunt Susan and uncle Richard are stingy with their crappy gifts. I sometimes think that the only reason they talk to us is to make a statement, to themselves, that they are giving people for hanging out with their less fortunate relatives.

As I settle on watching an episode from Sex and the City, I'm interrupted by my mom's head popping out from behind my bedroom door. She's quick to inform me that she will be leaving to the grocery store to grab a few ingredients for dinner and that my dad is staying; "He'll be just outside your door if you need anything" are her exact words. However, when I offer to go with her, she commands me to hurry up with a stern and impatient tone. After I hurry to my closet to change into a denim blouse and red velvet shorts with matching Converse, I switch off the t.v. and rush out the door. 

Walking into Trader's Joe, I confess that I'm really there for tampons because let's face it, I need to prepare for T.O.M in a couple of days. Making my way over to the feminine aisle, I choose a box with the brand name Playtex. Because I sometimes have OCD moments where I  have to make sure the box isn't bent or crushed, I examine the item for a minute or two before I'm completely satisfied with its appearance. As I'm ready to leave the aisle, two boys, pushing shopping carts, fly pass me. Because I wasn't able to see their face, I'm praying that they didn't see the box of tampons in my hands.

My conscious, the thing that sometimes makes you wonder if you have another person inside your head, gets the better of me and spits out comments like they'll be back or it's only a matter of time before they see the box. If I can just find my mom and rush her out of the store without being spotted, I can save myself from humiliation; it seems like a good plan. I peek around both corners of the aisle and, when the coast is clear, make a run for the Deli-the last saw her. At the rendezvous, she is nowhere to be found and I take into consideration that she might be at the checkout lines instead. I sprint with what little energy I have left but freeze a couple of feet away when I see her, not alone, and with the two boys. It's Harry and Niall from One Direction; they're talking to my mom. I change my tactics to hiding, whipping myself around fast, but I'm a klutz and should've seen this coming, because my right leg trips on my left foot, making me land awkwardly on my butt. Thankfully, I'm not in any real pain, but I still wonder where my box of tampons have fallen to. Frustrated, I begin to search for them by crawling around on the floor when my mom clears her throat, signaling me to stand. I'm on my feet again, not by much choice, and wiping the dirt off my knees.