The Lost Boy (One Direction // Harry Styles Story)

Chapter 1

Prologue 

2010 

For the nth time, I blew my nose using a once clean Kleenex and lazily threw it on the side, not minding where it landed. I grabbed my covers and pulled them higher as I slumped down deeper into the darkness of my blanket. 

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts ; Think of happy thoughts. 

I kept repeating those words over and over again in my head, but all it seems to do is to produce more pool of tears. 

I heard my door creak open so slowly that  the annoying sound of loose hinges were adding to the agony I've received today. Every thing was ticking me off at this point, from the sound of the door to the flickering street light outside my window. I was not the type of person who would notice every little detail about a particular object, person or event, but after today's happenings, it would seem that those are the only things that I'd be doing from now on. 

I felt one side of the bed sinking as the added weight pressed on. Then smooth fingers ran through my hair accompanied by faint "sshs" that were trying to calm me down. A mother's touch is something else. 

"We all know you did your best Violet darling. And, there's always next year, you know?" Mom said as she gave her best effort in making me feel better. 

I gripped on my blanket tighter as I shifted, facing the other side. "Wasn't good enough." I muttered back as unwanted flashbacks started to paint inside my mind. 

"Darling, it's not the end okay? Don't take this too seriously, you have a whole life ahead of you." She added on as I felt her hand now soothing my back. I managed to pace down my sobbing into a minimum. 

"But that's it, I'm not too serious. That's the reason why I am here." I coldly replied. I really hate answering back to my mom, but I could not control anything that is coming out from my mouth today. 

"Moira, I would like to discuss something with you in the study room." 

I felt my whole body stiffen at the sound of his voice. The only other person I am trying to prove to that I am worth something, that I can do something, is in my room. His monotonous voice surrounded the room with chills and uneasiness. I wanted to cry more, but I do not think I have enough tears left. 

"But Arthur, can't you see she is cry -- " 

But he cut her off, like he always did. "I already told her this was the dumbest and silliest thing she has ever done. I would not join in victory, especially in defeat. Now come on Moira,  company has limited inventory as of April and I do not understand how that happened." 

He trailed of with sentences constructed of money, power and the thing that he loves the most, his business. 

He wasn't a dad to me, he was a parent ; there is a big difference. 

I heard mom's ever so famous sigh of defeat before she gave me one last loving pat on my back. As soon as I felt weight lifting from my bed, and the slam of my door, I knew I was all alone again with my red diary that is laying on my desk waiting for my words to ruin its pages. 

I crawled to the edge of my bed and reached out for my diary. I flipped the pages until I spot a clean one. And then I began to write as I recall the events that happened earlier. I began to write the words that no one will ever see, but me. 

-diary entry-

23rd of July, 2010

2pm