I'm Being Adopted by... One Direction?

Free *Chapter 49*

I woke up feeling empty; I didn’t wake up with thoughts whispering in my head, my eyes just opened. I knew that it was early morning by how the light still shown through the sides of the curtains and the bottom of the curtains. My heart was beating erratically, pounding in my ears as I could feel it about to burst. My mouth had a foul taste to it, I knew by the tangy taste I had gotten drunk and threw up last night. Memories slowly began to trail its way into my mind, they were like a dark blanket wrapping itself up into my mind, never letting me escape and making it harder and harder to breathe. I felt something crinkle in my hands, sharp papery edges stabbing my sore hands.

I felt the dry tears in my eyes staining them red as I looked down and saw the crumpled paper. The ink was smeared but it was still legible. The note was from… from… them.  I felt a ball in my throat, but I couldn’t swallow it down. It felt like it was lodged, or stuck in my throat. But as soon as I had my shaking hands to grab my water bottle, Emmett’s pounding, vibrating up from the floorboards.

“GET UP AND DRESSED TOMLINSON!” He shouted throwing a pair of running shorts at me and a casual T-Shirt.  I looked at him in confusion, but his hard eyes set me straight, for the most part. I hopped out of bed and walked into the bathroom.

“FASTER!” He shouted at me, practically shoving me into the door frame.  I groaned at the sudden movement made my headache worse, it felt like someone was shoving needles up my back before the shot into my brain. I numbly changed into the outfit that he gave me and tied my hair up into a pony tail before slipping my sock covered feet into my tennis shoes.

I grabbed my phone and unlocked it checking if I had any missed calls or texts, but they both flashed up as none. Sniffling, I noticed that it was five o’clock in the morning. Usually, I didn’t work out until eight or so, since it was becoming closer to winter, the mornings were brisker and frosty.

“TOMLINSON! HURRY UP!” He shouted banging his fist on the door, I jumped and my phone clattered to the floor, luckily not cracking the screen.  I groaned and set my phone down on the counter, I exited the bedroom area and I noticed that I was by a huge stadium.

“What’s going on,” I was cut off midsentence by a yawn, “I don’t work out until like eight, usually.” I continued, Emmett’s lip pursed into a hard line and a paper was thrown down onto my lap.

Grace Tomlinson, underage drinking problem? She apologizes to One Direction’s member Harry Styles for being a brat? 

I looked back up at him as I had only read the first couple of sentences that had crossed my eyes. He didn’t show any emotion as he jerked his head to the side, saying that he wanted me outdoors.

*~*~*

“Three laps around the stadium.” Emmett barked, we were standing outside of Croke Park, I wasn’t playing here, I wasn’t big enough yet but the stadium was closed and we weren’t even going inside yet.

“Are you serious?” I asked him, my bloodshot eyes widened. The entire radius of this arena had to be two to three miles, and the entire thing was at least two miles wide.

I was still staring at him, and Emmett just shouted again, “GO!” I sighed and began a steady jog, but then I heard him yelling again and again for me to go faster. I’ll have to admit; once I got around the first time my headache wasn’t nearly as bad as it was before. But my legs were screaming for mercy, my lips had to be blue, and my hair was wet from the constant rain, and it was also whipping me across the face at points. I had already vomited twice; I was nearing the finishing line, but my legs they gave out.

It all happened in a flash. Suddenly my head hit the concrete, my legs sprawling out from underneath me, scraping and sliding against the slick concrete. “KEEP GOING, GET UP!” Emmett shouted at me, well easy for him to say, he was driving in a dry golf cart.