The One // Zayn Malik (Discontinued)

Troubles

RHIA'S POV

I looked at the time on my phone. Five- thirty. "Hey umm guys, " they all looked up at me, "I have to go. My dad is probably worried." That was so not true. My dad was probably waiting to beat me, maybe twice as much since I wasn't there yesterday.

"Ok, see you tomorrow?" they asked. I nodded. They all gave little smiles, but one caught me off guard. Zayn's. It looked like a fake smile. Could he know? No, that's impossible. I shrugged the feeling off and began to walk outside. I could see the sunset forming. The sunset. Something my mom always talked about. She would always comment on how beautiful it was, and that we should take the time to admire it. So that's what I did. I stood on the sidewalk and stared into its beauty.

"You look lost." I turned to see Greg. I gave him a little smile.

"No, not lost. Just admiring the beauty." I Turned to look at him and then back at the sky.

"Something your mom use to talk about?" he asked. There was a sudden pain in my chest. I hated when anyone brought up my mom, even myself.

"Yeah." I said quietly. I began to think about the car crash. It should've been me, not my mom. Or should I say, it should have been the drunk driver? I was in the car that night with her, so why couldn't it have been me? Why is it that the good people have to be the ones to go?

"You promise?"

"What?" I asked turning towards Greg. But it wasn't Greg that I saw, it was my mother. "Mom?" she smiled and nodded.

"You promise?" she asked again.

"Promise what?" I asked, tears forming in my eyes.

"Do you promise that you'll take care of your sister?" I nodded. "Do you promise that you'll stop blaming my death on yourself?"

That question broke me. I can't promise that. It was my fault.  I kept arguing with my mom, which made her pay attention to me and not the road. That's how she missed the drunk driver who came swerving at us. "But it's my fault." I told her.

"It's not your fault. None of this is. Now do you promise?"

I looked her in the eyes. "I promise."

"Promise what?" I was back to looking at Greg.

"Oh..nothing." I looked at the tattoo on the side of my index finger. Promise was written in cursive, to always remind me of my mom. "I gotta go." I told Greg quickly before running off.

By the time I got home, my dad was sleeping on the couch. Good. I ran into Leah's room, grabbed a backpack and started packing some of her clothes. I was about to leave the room and go into mine, when I saw my dad standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing?" he asked rather calmly.

"Just packing Leah's stuff." I said quietly avoiding his gaze.

"Why?"

"Because we're moving out." I told him quietly, slightly pushing past him to get to my room. He caught my wrist.

"You're not going anywhere." he said through gritted teeth.

"I can and I will!" I shot back. Shit. Big mistake.

"DON'T YOU EVER TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!" he yelled grabbing a fistful of my hair. I winced when he tugged at it. "Like I said, you're not going anywhere."

"Why do you even care?! You never take care of us! All you do is beat us! Why does it matter??!"  With that he slapped me. Hard. My cheek stung like hell.

"HOW DO I KNOW YOUR NOT GOING TO CALL THE COPS?!" he shouted, ignoring my questions. I stayed silent. "ANSWER ME!" he pushed me up against the wall, hand wrapped around my throat.