Adoption (A One Direction Fan Fic)

Prologue

October 21, 2014 (edited)

This is amateur work and in no way as good as any other fanfics. Please bear with me, I am only young and this is simply for my own fun.

Mackenzie Foy would be playing our lovely Emerald Belle everybody :)

Message from the future me:

I would be editing this book so please bear with me if half of the chapters are bad and half are decent. Thank you xx

 --

Emerald's POV

I was told many times in my life that I am a mistake. I still am.

“I’m something that is not worth anything. No one would want me. No one would ever want me. I feel like I want to crumble down a hole and die. Right here, right now.” That’s how I feel every passing second of my dull life.  

Everyone is asleep, slipping away from reality and in to the mystic world of dreams. It’s already the child’s dreaded hour, midnight, and the bedtime set for everyone was 3 hours ago.  

I on the other hand cannot sleep.

Memories are just flooding in like a big wave of tsunami. 

I can't stop it. 

I tried so hard to stop it, but I really can't. 

I tried 3 years ago too, but I still can't.

4 years old

"Clean this mess up." My father said, not even pausing to take a look away from his daily newspaper. He simply said that to me. Not to my mother or even a maid, but to me. A weak, four year old girl who can’t even reach the very top of the wooden table that I was assigned to clean.

"I said clean it up!" He grew impatient of my slow response. I quickly scrambled up to my feet from the creaky old floor I was sitting on and grabbed a tissue from the box that was now half empty. I started cleaning up the spilled vodka he would always drink, me on the table quietly wiping the small chaos he has done.  

"Faster! When you're done, clean the whole house, will you?" He ordered not even making sure that I was okay with his order. Back then, I had a vivid idea of what I was supposed to do in order for the whole house to look spotless. I would often get mixed up between the odd smelling floor wax and the toilet cleaner though and this would result to a night of punishment. Usually I don’t get anything to eat or he would whip me with his belt until his right arm got tired.

He was dressed in a fancy suit, probably the attire required to get in the casino him and my mother are planning to go to tonight.

As if on cue, my mother came downstairs dressed in what looked like a very expensive dress that probably drained our money dry. I would much rather spend it for some more food or even proper shoes for me.

They laughed madly, their hands entwined. They spared me a look of disgust before going out the oak door. 

6 years old

"I told you to clean the glass up! What did you do?! You just laid around and did nothing you worthless piece of shit!" My father is very furious with me, bursting with anger that is poison deadly. I trembled and stuttered my answer out, my little hands shaking from fear.

"I-I d-did. I-its cl-cleaned u-up now." He wasted no time and slapped me and held my face with one hand, just like how he has done all the time I ‘messed up’. His face was so close to mine that I can see the faint trace of sweat on his forehead. "Is this clean?! Look at this!" Like a devil unleashed, he shoved my face to the ground, holding back my hair to keep me in place. I couldn't see even a tiny speck of dust that was out of place.