Shiver (A One Direction Adoption Story)

Chapter 7

Emma's POV

"Emma, I need you to tell us everything."

My hands felt small and cold under Louis's.

"Why?"

He looked me in the eyes and smiled a sympathetic grin. "Honey, if I'm going to adopt you, we're going to have a court case. And I need to know everything- why you ran away, why your parents died- if it's going to go smoothly and easily."

"It's hard for me to talk about, Louis."

Harry, Louis, and Zayn were sitting on the couch in front of me, while I sat awkwardly on the ottoman. I don't know what they said to him, but Zayn was no longer looking at me with hostility. Instead, he was smiling comfortingly in my direction.

"We know, kiddo," Harry sighed. "But we won't judge you. However, it will come up at some point."

I looked uncomfortably between the three older boys, and fidgeted with my dress. "I'll probably cry."

For the first time since I got here, Zayn addressed me in a calm voice. "That's ok. You probably need to, anyway."

The spring sunshine filtered in through the large windows, and I knew they were right. I was no stranger to court cases and back-stories. One way or another, mine would resurface.

"Can I sit in that chair?"

Louis smiled. "Sure."

The cushion sank in a little as I sat down and nervously adjusted the skirt of the dress.

"My parents weren't married when they had me. They'd hooked up after meeting at a party in university, and for some reason my dad stuck around after I was born nine months later in December of that year. I lived with my mum in this two bedroom flat in London that was above the bakery she owned. My dad came and went since he was always on business trips. But they were never abusive. Never ever ever. They were the best mum and dad anyone could ever have. We'd go see movies and shop and go to the park. And my dad would push mum and I on the swings and he'd make us laugh until our stomachs hurt. When I had my seizures they knew just what to do. They'd hug me and kiss me. I'd help out at the bakery making cakes and brownies and sweeping the floor. I had a lot of friends and good grades. It was really a great life.

"But still, there was something wrong. They fought a lot, and not about things parents are supposed to fight about. My mum would accuse him of cheating and my dad would say he was never happy here anyway. And she'd say he was the only reason she was alive and he'd tell her to go kill herself then. There'd be a silence and the soft sound of my mum crying. He'd apologize and say he didn't mean it at all. That if she committed suicide he'd die too.

"On May 7th I came home from school and the closed sign was on the bakery door, but it should've been open. So I ran up to our apartment. All the lights were out and my bedroom door was ajar. So I set my bag on the couch and walked in. I was scared, really really scared. And I almost passed out when I saw my mummy and daddy hanging from these ropes attached to my ceiling fan like little dolls."

By now I was sobbing, big fat tears rolling down my cheeks, and Harry walked over to my chair and put his long arms around me.

"They were holding hands!" I gasped. "I miss my parents! What did I ever do? We were fine! We were fine! What happened? Why did they leave me? I had to live on the streets for a year! I want them back! I miss my mummy and daddy!"

Harry rubbed my back and kissed my forehead. "Shh. Emma. I know, sweetheart. I know."

I cried for a little while longer, and soon my sobs were dry and there were no tears left. Louis reached over and grabbed my hand. "Thank you, Em. That was brave of you."

I whimpered and rubbed my eyes. "Mhm."

"You're a very strong girl," Zayn whispered. "No other twelve year old could do what you did just now."

"I'm thirteen. "

They all looked at me.

"You look twelve."

"I'm not twelve."

Louis laughed a little and stood up. "You probably look twelve because you're so tiny, love. You must be exhausted. Let's get you something to eat."

I nodded and followed him into the kitchen. "What do you want?"

Shrugging, I sat at the counter, and watched as Louis took out some chicken and bread and cheese and fashioned a sloppy looking sandwich.

"Eat up!" The plate clanked on the granite.

Within a few minutes or so, it was empty and crumbs littered the counter top.

Within another few minutes or so, I was retching in the toilet.

"I didn't think it was that bad." Louis joked, holding my hair back.

"It wasn't, but," I paused to throw up again. "I'm just used to stale bread and fruit and water. The chicken was just too much, I guess."

For the second time today, tears were dripping from my eyes and I was thoroughly miserable.

"I have to go pick up your meds. I'll get something for your tummy too, love." Louis kissed my forehead and moved away, letting Harry take his place.

I quietly thanked him, happy to have someone holding back my hair and buying me Advil for the first time in a year.

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Sorry it's late. I'm not feeling well.

If you vote and comment I'll feel better! :p

Love you

-LittleBlueShoes