I Love You. [h.s]

23.

||M A D D I E||

Friday 28th March, 2014.
12:40pm, Camden, London.

Once I reached the house, my head finally lifted to see both cars present in the driveway.

I took a gulp, my throat having a pinch of pressure as I felt all types of suffocation whilst walking to the front door.

I didn't want to go in.

My eyes darted down to see my fingers grazing over the bruises on my wrist.

Harry almost noticed them today. He held my wrist and all I wanted to do was burst out with sobs, but all that I could muster was a whimper.

I had to keep quiet.

For My baby.

I wasn't going to let them win.

It was the cold month of December when I took a pregnancy test. It was the cold month of December when Delilah found it in the bin in the bathroom. It was the cold month of December when I had no more strength to fight back. It was the cold month of December, one more month until I had to leave and never come back.

"Where the fuck were you, you little slut?" I gasped at the sudden growl and grasp of my wrist, trying not to cry.

If I cried, my death would literally be confirmed.

"I-i-i-i-i had choir club," I struggled to get any words out, fear on high alert as my baby's only protection was my hand.

"LILAH, the little bitch thinks I'm gonna kill her baby!" He laughed, head looking over his shoulder. I tilted my head to the left, looking around Sid's middle and seeing Delilah laugh like a witch.

"You listen here, once you're shipped off to the US, you and your future slut are gonna be the newest members of the sex trade," I shook my head instantly, past memories ripening in my head all over again.

"P-P-please, I'll do anything, j-just leave my baby out of this, please," my countless sobs did nothing as I was practically pulled up the wooden stairs. The contact of it to my hips had caused the most excruciating pain, but I remembered not to voice any of it.

Any whinging and my baby would die.

And it'd be all my fault.

"Madeline, oh Madeline, the Earth and your favourite Finley require you," the sound of Finns voice had stopped the horrible flashback, and all I could do was squeal in excitement at the sight of my favourite cousin.

His hair was in their tiny loose curls on the top of his head, dimples evident and the newest suit on his body. I was starting to become a small fan of the velvet purple blazer.

"Finn, oh my god, I haven't seen you in so long!" I gasped, his masculine arms jholding my body like a fortress.

"I saw you on New Years, y'numpty, I was the drunk bloke that tried to balance vodka shots on his head, remember?" I giggled, the memory of New Years fresh in my head, now clouding over the horrible ones.

"Not a very good influence on the kids," I teased, Finn gasping and lightly hitting my upper forearm.

"Can't forget the state of you, can we, Miss Queen of Tequila," he acted out in a feminine voice, reenacting my drunk poses from the drunken night.

"There are children around, have some shame," a Mother muttered, giving us a glare as she walked past us. Instinctively, Finn and I gave a roll of our eyes.