midnight train (one direction fanfic)

Chapter one

This story I entirely came up with so please don't steel. That is the only rule so yeah :)

No one other than One Direction in this story is real. Ummmmmmmm that's about it. Enjoy!

*Avery's POV*

My life consists of a daily routine: getting up, getting a beating by father, skipping breakfast, going to school, getting bullied, coming home, getting another beating by father, skipping dinner, and going to bed.

The bullies at school call horrid names! Slut, whore, bitch, ect. They don't know me, I say that because if they did kniw me they would know I'm a virgin. They push me around. Another example, they don't know I'm already beatin at home. They call me fat. Example; they don't know I'm starving myself.

Some ask how I survive. The truth is I don't. I let it all out. I'm a bottle rocket waiting to explode! I have the scars as proof. I refer to them as battle scars.

My step-father, I refer to him as father because all these years that's what he has been. After my little brother was born my dad walked out on us and my mum married my now step-father.

I was happy, my mother was happy, my brother was happy, before my father (a/n from here out we refer to step father as father.) became an addict. That was three years ago. Three years of pain. Three years no gain.

My father has a son. He is 23, and he is the exact same as him! He's constantly drunk, dealing drugs, committing crimes. It is so sad. I swear he would be a sweet and nice boy if he didn't follow on his fathers foot steps.

"Avery! Get your but down here!" Father yelled. I gulped and walked downstairs. When I reached the bottom I was greeted by a drunk father. He slapped me, leaving a stinging sensation. I cupped my cheek in pain. That was a mistake.

Father kicked me in the stomach,I doubled over in pain. Father having the upper hand pushed me to the ground.

"Bitch!" He yelled before walking off. I got up and as quietly as possible walked back to my room. I walked in and sat on my bed. I cried silently.

After a while of crying I heard my door open. I looked over and in walked my little brother. He had a bruise forming on his cheek and he looked in pain. I sniffled and opened my arms. He walked over and hugged me.

He sat on my bed between my legs, crying. I stroked his hair in an effort to comfort him. After a minute or two he spoke up.

"Avery, why us? Why me?" He asked. I simply shrugged. I couldn't answer. My mother had horrible taste in men.