Canon | (Harry Styles AU)

[sixty one]

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You know how when you're a kid and your parents do all they can to keep their problems hidden from you? And it works because they do it so well, and your mind is already so innocent your thoughts don't even go there.

It's really not until you're older that things become complicated because you start figuring things out for yourself. You start to see that that perfect family you always drew at school with a smile on your face, wasn't actually real. You start to see that that perfect family in your drawing needs a few adjustments. You know, things like the hidden bruises on your mom's already bruised skin..or the tears that always seem to cover your malnourished cheeks..and maybe how you probably should have drawn your dad with the lightest color you had since he was never really around unless it was to kick your *ss or yell at your mom.

And by the time you're a teenager, you've got your family dynamic down to a tee. You just know. You know that mom is on your side, making sure you know you're loved and assuring you that dad loved you too..just in his own way. You know that mom does anything and everything to keep the peace in the house. You know that she doesn't deserve an ounce of the sh*t she goes through and you know that when she finally does something drastic it's worth the risk. You know your mom plays it safe but this time-this one time, you can't ask questions, you can't feel too scared to listen and do what she's asking because you could see it in her eyes that this was serious. You know that when she puts you on that bus, and tells you to leave everything, you do it.You know that mom is just..just the most selfless, smart, and damn near perfect person ever. She is. She doesn't make mistakes like you do. She has your best interest at heart.

Or does she?

Is it you she's protecting? Is it you she's putting first? Or is it..is it for her? Is it for her and what she wants..what she's always wanted.

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My finger slightly brushes against the lose beer bottle shards drawing blood, and just as quickly as the little driblits of crimson begin to run down my hand and wrist, my mind races with confusion.

The first paper is terribly printed picture. It's a sh*tty pixelated shot taking up the top half of the white sheet of paper. And even with the terrible job done you can still tell what it's a photo of: a woman, her skin so pale and her hair so curly with a forced smile on her face as she awkwardly holds a child in only a diaper, looking no older than two.

Confused, I put the picture to the back of the other paper in my hand. This next paper, is a bank statement, and circled in a bright red is a deposit of four thousand dollars made in the year nineteen ninety-eight, the account holders name cut off.Again, still confused, I flip to the next and final page.

TIMES UP..6K OR IM TAKING WHATS MINE

I knew that hand writing anywhere..it was most definitely my dad's..it was almost identical to mine. That's about all the connection I could make which really meant nothing since I already had guessing my dad had been the one to toss the bottle through the window.

"Hey Harry.." Before I have another moment to wonder, Louis enters the living. I quickly look up from the papers, allowing the beer bottle remains to drop to the floor at the sight of a curious Louis.

"What's up," I try to mask my sudden emotional change. What the f*ck was this?

"House is empty," He tightens his lips confused,before softening them,"He isn't here."