Drops of Jupiter: a Niall Horan AU

One: Emmie

A/N: yes, I realize that Drops of Jupiter isn't a One Direction song, but it's still wonderful & fits perfectly with the characters and plot of this story. For any of you who haven't heard the song, I've attached it to this chapter <3

"Now that she's back in the atmosphere, with drops of Jupiter in her hair"

Emmie gripped her bag tighter to her body as she turned the corner off the dirt road and into Harwood lane. At one point of time, a girl like Emmeline Miller might have looked odd, walking around so freely in this side of town. Emmeline, however, was born and raised on the west side of town.

The once-white picket fence around Mr. Greenaway's house made Emmie think only of happy memories and her fondest memories had occurred in the sanction of the woods out back of her home.

It was a sunny afternoon, leaving most everyone out on their porches and tending to the smallest of gardens. Emmie, who knew practically everyone on her block, greeted everyone she saw.

Her thoughts were elsewhere; Emmeline hadn't even noticed when Mrs. Holland shook her head to the side and muttered that the "poor girl was too good for this world."

All Emmie could think of was whether or not her parents would be home tonight. And if they were, were they in an approachable state?

Emmie shrugged her beaten up flats off of her feet and plopped them on the opposite side of the Horowitz's fence, her bag following suit. It didn't take long for Emmeline to climb the fence and make her way home.

The Miller residence was small, almost cramped. Its exterior looked bland, like they hadn't even bothered to make it look nice. In reality, it was a miracle that the white paint wasn't chipped in too many places. The only sign of vibrancywas the small patch of daisies that Emmeline herself had planted and tended to.

Sighing, Emmie bent over to pick up another letter the mailman had tossed on the front porch. She didn't even have to read it to know what it was.

Bills, bills, and more bills.

The front door was the creakiest one in the whole house; her father hadn't bothered to fix it because he thought it'd alert them of intruders.

Emmeline shut the door tightly after her and went to put her school things up. "Mama?" She called out, wary of the silence that occupied the house.

Not even the television was playing, a rare occurrence, considering her mother's obsession with tacky soap operas.

Emmie knew her father wasn't home yet; the sun was still up. Perhaps it was better not to question her parents' actions; she'd learned that the hard way.

When she was met with silence, Emmeline set out to search the house for her mother, the envelope still in her hand.

She started with the kitchen, but there was only a half-drunken bottle of beer laying on the counter top.

Emmie decided to check the living room next, knowing that there was something wrong if the television set was off. All she could hope was that the old thing hadn't broken again.

Em almost felt relieved to find her mother passed out on the couch, but the still burning cigarette in her hand was unsettling.