FAITH (Zaylena)

Prologue

"I can't believe you would do this to me!" I heard my mum shout. "To us!"

"I'm sorry!" My father shouted back.

"Is this why you didn't come home from work on our anniversary?" My mothers voiced echoed through the house. "Was it cause you were with her?"

"Answer me!" She shouted again, followed by the sound of a plate smashing on to the marble floor.

I could hear my mums loud sobs, I could hear the pain that she was feeling by the way her breath hitched in her throat, she had to gasp for air while crying. I tried to cover my ears and pretend that non of this was happening, but my mothers cries were loud and painful like a bullet.

I closed me eyes and welcomed the darkness. I liked the darkness, maybe if I closed my eyes all this would go away, I covered my ears to the hurtful and vile words that my parents consistently were shooting at each other.

But that didn't work because I could still hear my mum crying and my dad screaming over her so I ran to my room and slammed my bedroom door shut; they were now arguing in the hallway instead of in the kitchen.

I pressed my back against the white wooden door and slid down to the ground with my hand clenched tightly to my chest as the tears trailed down my face. I felt so hopeless, I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how to make this situation any better; so I sat there hopelessly and cried my eyes out and all that I could hear were the sobs escaping from my mouth and the family war.

***
That was the last time I saw my dad in the flesh, I remember trying to hold him back by hanging on to the grey suitcase in his hand, which most likely contained his clothes. He knelt down and kissed me on the forehead and whispered that he loved me, then he walked out of the house and into his car without even looking back.

I wonder if he looked in the rear mirror one last time as he drove away, did he feel any guilt?

Probably not since I haven't heard from him now for almost ten years, I was seven years old when my parents got a divorce. And the only time I ever heard from my dad was during Christmas, where he sent me a Christmas card along with a lousy five pound note.

Eventually he stopped sending me cards with only with Santa Claus on them, probably figured I didn't give a flying fuck about him or his stingy ass.

When my parents got a divorce my mum got all of my dad's money, including the custody of me.

Looking back now, I don't regret anything, what's the point of dwelling over something that is inevitable as time.

However with that said, there are times where I wish I could turn back time and erase all the sadness, but if I do that then I fear that the happiness and joy will be gone as well. You can't have a rainbow without a little bit of rain, now can you?

When I was seventeen I was a careless, irresponsible, reckless child; however that all changed when I witnessed a miracle.

I'm Zayn Malik, I live in Bradford, I'm seventeen years old, and I'm just trying to live life.