Bad // zaynmalik [on hold]

Chapter One

I woke up to the harsh beeping of my alarm clock, which I quickly switched off, hoping it didn't wake my father up. I sat in my warm bed, rubbing my eyes as I stretched. I didn't feel like getting out of bed today, nor did I feel like going to school. Though my current mindset was to leave the house before I witnessed my father's reaction to the date. I predicted heavy drinking, just like last night. I shuddered at the thought of how bad it could get. Hopefully, he wouldn't keep me up late again.

It was a phone call that woke me last night. It was an older woman, with a voice I didn't recognize. She asked if I could pick someone up; that someone being my drunken father. I agreed, hanging up the phone, pulling my jacket over my pajamas, and grabbing my car keys. Technically, I wasn't supposed to be driving at night, I only had my permit, but this was an emergency. I drove downtown to the sports bar the older lady directed me to. The outside was cluttered with people, and the street was lined with cars, making it hard to find a parking space. Once I found one, I ignored paying the parking meter, aware I wouldn't be long.

I pushed myself out of my small blue car, weaving through the ocean of inebriated bodies. It wasn't long until I found my father sitting on the dirty ground, crying with a bottle of beer in his hand. I pulled him to his feet, balancing him on my shoulder as I walked him back to the car, ignoring the catcalls from the drunken men around me. I successfully got him in the passenger's seat of my car, listening to his low, unintelligible muttering between sobs. I didn't reply, or ask him what he was saying, because I was certain he would slap me.

I don't know how to describe my father. He wasn't abusive, but I would regularly receive undeserved beatings. He didn't hate me, in fact, my father loved me. He'd constantly tell me how much I mean to him, and that I was all that is left in his world. I ignored the times he'd insult me, because most of the negative comments were caused by alcohol. Ever since my mom's passing, he's been immensely over-protective. I wasn't allowed to date, have friends, or go to parties; his reasoning was that he didn't want to lose me over someone else.

It was around two in the morning when I finally managed to get him in bed, though he fought me the entire time. It hurt me to see my father so upset, especially since I vividly remembered the man he used to be.

Though I didn't want to, I forced myself out of bed; my toes curling when they came in contact with the cold wooden floor. I stripped out of my pajamas, throwing them into the hamper next to my door. They stunk of alcohol and cigarette smoke, which absolutely disgusted me. I pulled on a pair of blue skinny jeans, almost losing balance as I struggled sliding them up my long legs. Once they were on, I slipped my favorite hoodie over my head, tugging on an old pair of converse before I left my room. I brushed out my jet black hair, collecting it all on one shoulder. I skipped makeup, aware I didn't have time. Besides, if my father were to see me applying any, he'd have a fit.

I checked on my father before I left, glad he was still peacefully sleeping. I slowly shut his door behind me, then crept down the stairs, grabbing my book bag from the kitchen, my keys as well. I locked the front door behind me, then padded down the porch steps towards my car.

No one at school knew what I was going through at home. No one except a girl named Makayla Foley, who had been there with me through everything. We met when we were twelve, and four years later she's still my best friend. She's also the only person my father allows over, the only reason being he knew her before he went mad. Makayla understood what was wrong with my father, and she supported me as much as she could. I could trust this girl with my life.

I waited at my locker for Makayla, but she never came. I figured she was absent, so I hurried off to first period history, not wanting to be late. I wasn't popular at school; I was that quiet, smart girl that all the teachers loved. Though, I'm definitely not shy; I just don't like being too loud. Makayla, on the other hand, was popular and beautiful. I envied her beauty, and her gorgeous boyfriend, Kyle, who was the quarterback of our high school's football team.