The Bad Boy Healer {Zayn Malik Fanfiction}

I. Moving

*Chapter 1*

Priscilla jolted awake, drenched in sweat, and sobbing silently. Lately she’s been having that nightmare over and over. Remembering the last moments she had with her brother. Had. He’s dead now, ever since that car accident, 3 months ago. Once the impact came, he took off his seatbelt and jumped over to Priscilla’s side, he died saving her own life. Nonetheless, everyone blames Priscilla for his death. Her mom, dad, and her older sister Nicole. They always remind her in some way, shape, or form. She lives in a hell house, full of torture and abuse. The only person who acknowledges Priscilla’s existence is her 5 – almost 6 year old sister, Johannah. Johannah knew what happened about her dead brother Joshua and the fatal car accident. But she was only 5; however she was pretty smart for a 5 year old. She never judged Priscilla which is why they had an unbreakable bond together. Johannah knows her sister takes the blame and harassment from her family and her own self. She knows she just needs time to heal. Johannah personally loves Priscilla more than her own mother.

“Priscilla get the hell out of bed already, lazy ass!!!” Nicole screamed from downstairs.

“Okay…” Priscilla whispered. She knew she would wake up to another day of insults. But Priscilla knew deep down in her heart and mind that she deserved this, after all, she did ‘kill’ her own brother. Priscilla reluctantly left her duvet and walked towards her closet. Sighing she chose an outfit to fit the weather in sunny California. She desperately wanted to wear shorts, but decided against it because she didn’t want any rude remarks.

‘Your thighs are too big.’ ‘Get a tan.’ ‘Haha, you’ll never get a thigh gap.’ ‘It should be a crime for you to wear shorts.’

All of those remarks, well yeah she has heard them all. From school bullies to her own parents. Once dressed, she tied her wavy jet black hair into a messy ponytail. Whilst doing that, she heard a small knock – knowing exactly who it was, she let Johannah in her room. As the 5 year old came into the room, she tackled Priscilla into a bear hug. Every morning Johannah would do this, it now became their morning routine. Every. Single. Morning. Also Johannah would always check Priscilla’s wrists to see if she continued her daily self-abuse, and she does. Priscilla knew Johannah hated when she does self-harm to herself, that’s why she only cuts a little. But to Johannah ‘a little’ still shouldn’t be on her sister’s graceful wrist to leave scars and reminders of her past. Johannah always puts her tiny fingers and traces those cuts and scars that remained. Priscilla slightly winced knowing Johannah traced on a fresh new cut. Johannah then tugged on her sister’s arm telling her to follow her. Priscilla sighed and followed her younger sister into the bathroom and washed her blood down the drain. Then her mom, Patricia, barged into the bathroom pushing Priscilla out of the way.

“Come on Johannah, you don’t want to be around this bad influence!” She spat at Priscilla. “Oh and you, whatever your name is, yeah start packing because we are moving in 3 days!”

“But…why?” Priscilla questioned.

“Priscilla do NOT start with me! I cannot stand this house anymore! Everything reminds me of my perfect son Joshua, which YOU killed. He was my perfect child and you’re everything but perfect! Why couldn’t you have died instead! Everyone would’ve been happier. You are a lame excuse of a human being!”

Priscilla couldn’t contain her tears spilling from her eyes anymore. She ran out of the bathroom while sobbing. Johannah fidgeted out of her mother’s grip and ran after Priscilla. She found Priscilla silently packing with an occasional sob, while putting her belongings into brown cardboard boxes labeled:

The Mistakes’ Personal Belongings

Little Johannah silently prayed that moving would somehow help Priscilla heal. She didn’t want her 17 year old sister to suffer anymore. Hopefully moving to Bradford, England would be a life changing experience.