Irresistible [A Zarry Fanfiction].

Chapter Forty Two

Zayn Malik could have laid on the pavement all night, for all he cared. He had lost all cares to give in the world. It could have rained on him and washed him down the drain for all he cared, but instead, his body folded back into it’s fight or flight mode. He had thought he had heard a noise, he didn’t know what it was, and once more he couldn’t give a shit what it was, but some bizarre thought crossed his mind that it was his Father, come to find him so he could rub his nose in his face and brag about how Zayn had turned into him. Because of that thought, Zayn had rushed to his feet and ran off. He didn’t know where he was running, as always, but his feet always tended to take him somewhere he needed to be.

The cold October wind was rushing around him, pushing behind him as if it were trying to direct him somewhere, but Zayn’s fragile body wouldn’t have it. He ran down a quiet road full of dodgy, old looking houses, trying to be light footed, not wanting to wake someone. He didn’t want to be around people. He didn’t know how he could cope with himself. How to deal with his anger… His bare chest felt like it was being caressed by the chilling breeze, as if each tiny goosebump on his olive skin was a kiss from it. He was in only Harry’s tank top and his jeans and trainers. His snapback was secured to his head; it was holding back the mess that was his untamed fringe. But once again, he didn’t care for his appearance anymore. He didn’t care for anything; he just wanted to keep his feet moving. He wanted to escape humanity, he just wanted out of all of this mess. That was the only thing he felt passionate for at the moment. It seemed that everything else in his life was failing. His family life was broken, and as a result he had seventeen years of bottled up emotion that he couldn’t deal with, and a younger sister that would turn out just like himself. Everything was his own fault, he was so unneeded in this world. It felt like Alex was the only one that actually needed him anymore, but even Alex didn’t exactly need him. He just used him for his fists, feet and his lips.

Even Harry wouldn’t want him one day. If Harry knew what he really was, what he was really like, he wouldn’t want him. He wouldn’t want to kiss him the way he does now, or hold his hand or send those smiles to him in class anymore. Harry would give up on him, and then one day, the day would come when Harry wouldn’t look at him in the street. Who would ever look at Zayn? He was practically a street rat, a common piece of scum, with no past and no future. Just a boy living because there was nothing else for him to do. One day, he’d turn out like the people who had created him. He’d end up married to a manically depressed woman, with kids who were scared of being in the same house as him, the only good thing about his day being alcohol.

Zayn gave a shudder as his impending future loomed ahead of him. Even if he wanted to get out of the hole he found himself in, he’d never have the chance to do anything like university. He didn’t have a brain cell in his head, nor the pennies in his pocket. He didn’t even have a dream. Every kid has a dream, Waliyha wanted to go to university. That was her dream, to do English or history, and she’d be so good there, whereas Safaa just wanted to be, well, loud and bubbly. She’d end up famous and on the stage without a doubt, Zayn told himself, before he slipped his hands into the pockets of his jogging bottoms.

What a sad excuse of a kid he was, he didn’t even have a dream. He had nothing he wanted to live for. Well, he thought he did, but the curly haired, green eyed boy wouldn’t want to be stuck with Zayn all his life, like Zayn had pictured in his mind, so if that was a tiny dream of his, it was crashed automatically by the realism of life. A kid without a dream, he may as well just not have been born. If he was going to end up like his Father, then what was the point in trying not to be? The question zipped around his head, as his feet slowly plodded down the now familiar road. Zayn looked up, his chocolate brown eyes seeing the allotments, and the daunting figure at the bottom of the road, waiting for him eagerly.