Miracle [Zarry]✔✔ Under Editing.....

1

•EDITED•

Zayn's POV

I woke up to the loud banging of the front door.

Groaning I got up heading to it but before I could get to the good for nothing door it flew open and in came a man and a woman in suits.

I rubbed my temple as the woman looked at the mattress on the floor in disgust, my sister is now sitting up, her face hectic at the sight in front of her.

"Jesus Zayn!" Natalie yelled at me. "Why can't you do anything I ask, Go to school, get an education, clean the place up and help your father. But no still I come here to find you sleeping at ten in the morning and the apartment still ripped apart." She exclaims resembling an uptight yet strict drill sergeant.

Not to mention her mole was growing a mole.

Were those hairs always in there?

And that bun she really needs to loosen it, or maybe that's the botox.

"We're gonna clean it we're just tired." Wahyliah tried in her sleepy state.

Ms. Krump walked over to my father who was passed out on the torn up sofa. Yes, her name is Natalie Krump. And yes my father is a dedicated drunkard.

"Yaser didn't I tell you to have to this pig sty cleaned up?" Natalie spat at my father as his face scrunched up, and he only smiled smugly up at her seeming its all he knew to do when she interrogated him.

That's kinda all he ever does really. I wonder what he has to smile about ever so often.

I longed for the days when he would smile at me the way a father does to his son.

Jeffrey the burly man then pulled him up by his coller puting his arm around his neck hauling him out the door as my sister and I effortlessly pulled at them trying to pull our father back in the apartment or what's left of it, but with our lack of food we barely had any strength on our side, being no help which lead to no success.

"Daaaadddd!" Wahliyah yelled as I held on to her letting her sob in my chest.

Though the man was always intoxicated, never home or around. He was our dad he was all we had, and they were taking him away. I know it was for the best but Wahliyah was young.

"He'll be fine Waliyah." I soothed her.

"No! Are you blind there taking him to the mad house." Wayliah yelled at me tears resurfacing.

"No sweetie, he is just gonna get help." I comfort her holding her close and carding my fingers through her hair, letting her tears soak my worn out shirt.

She had calmed down a bit and we just sat there.

"Liyah, how about we just go get some food." I asked and she furrowed her eye brows.

"With what?" She asked. "Dad used the last of it remember?" She reminded me.

"Oh." I said not knowing what I'm going to feed my baby sister.

So I just sat there and held her trying to think of something, hearing the occasional rumble of her stomach made my heart clench.

She held her stomach and groaned and I felt so sorry, sorry that the only thing I could do was hold her but I did, I held her tightly to my chest.

Shortly after a knock sounded at the door and she went to get it.

It was Emma, Emma Roberts, Waliyah's best friend even though she was two years older than Waliyah.

"Look what I got." She chimed holding up a donut box and two sodas, the sight making me spring to my feet and Waliyah's eyes sparkle.

Emma's parents past away when she was nine and ever since she's been on the streets. So she pretty much knew her way around the place and through the stores. Shes also a reapply good pick pocket if I might add.