lioness // phan

Chapter 23 ~ Him.

WHO HAS BRIGHT ORANGE HAIR AND TABINOF???

^~^ ME

*hiii... So I have no idea where this chapter is going because I didn't plan much for it so I'm sorry if it's really short or boring but here you areeeee....
Are you shocked?*

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Leona's POV
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"Fine... I'll tell you," I said.

I didn't know how to start. For the past year I have been suffering in silence. I've hardly spoke. And now I messed everything up, because for one; I was beaten up in an alleyway. I had left Rosie on her own, I had planned to run away. From Rosie, from George, from Dan and Phil.

I had gone through so much pain during rehab, and when I was with my father I thought my life was worthless. When I met Dan and Phil I took them for granted. I was selfish, my life sucked still; but it was so much better than it was before.

"Thank you both for taking care of me. I mean it, you both mean the world to me. And I'm so sorry for all the pain I'm putting you through," I said.

They listened, no one spoke.

I hadn't realised at first, but by the time we were out of the alleyway and in the middle of a dark town, I did. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson had come to my rescue with Dan and Phil.

"Wait...-" I pointed.

"I'll explain later," Dan laughed, rolling his eyes.

I nodded, feeling my throat close up from the amount of speaking. I haven't spoken so much in so long. I was used to not talking, because I didn't want to. I didn't want to let all the memories slip from my mouth, because once they slipped; there was no turning back.

I took a deep breath.

"At the age of 5, my family was perfect. My father bought me and my brother everything we wanted. We were so happy. And everything was just how I wanted it to be," I said.

My voice began to slightly crack but I carried on.

"And then all of a sudden it went down hill. My father had lost his very important job. He spiralled out of control. He began to drink, and when he went for interviews they wouldn't accept him because he would turn up drunk. He was a mess. We had so much money, we had everything, and it's crazy how I can all just fall apart with a snap of a finger,"

I pushed my hair from my face.

"And well, when he drunk; he became angry. He would let out all of his anger on my mother. She became depressed. Me and my brother had to grow up trying to survive on our own. My brother was 7, meaning he was 2 years older than me. My brother would take me to pre school, cook my food, help me get dressed. And with all of that he had to look after himself as well. It also didn't help that my mother didn't do anything for us." I said.

My voice broke, but I held it together.

"I didn't understand back then. I didn't understand that my father was angry. My mother told me it was okay and that they were play fighting. I didn't know what he was really doing to her. He would leave bruises, finger prints on her skin, cuts round her head from smashing mirrors or anything he could find at her. I didn't understand. He would yell at her. He blamed her for everything. My mother was bed ridden. She never spoke to anybody, she ignored us after a while and we hardly saw the sight of her. But when I did, she looked like she hadn't slept." I sighed.

"I didn't know she was depressed. I thought it was normal. But at school I began to act out. Because my mother told me it was play fighting, I thought it was okay. I was a wreck at the age of 7 years old. My brother would yell at me to stop, and he was only 9 himself. My dad got angry at all of us, and began to abuse us as well as my mother," I croaked.