Restricted: A Harry Styles Fan Fiction

Prologue

 ************WARNING THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN SELF HARM, DEPRESSION, DRUG USE, SEX, AND OTHER MATURE THEMES. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK****************

~~~~~PROLOGUE~~~~~

July 21st,  2011

   "Harry, stop it." my mum said while chuckling. "Harry, I'm serious!" her voice said one thing, but her laugh said another. She could not stop laughing for her life. Her hands gripped the steering wheel harder, making her knuckles white. I was poking her side, just joking around.

   We were on our way to visit my sister, Gemma, in London for a holiday. We had been driving for three hours from Holmes Chapel, and we only had a half a hour left until we saw her again. Ever since she went off to University, we rarely heard from her, other than occasional calls and texts.

   My name's Harry Styles, and I'm seventeen years old. I've been living in Holmes Chapel my entire life. My father left us when I was barely one, and we haven't heard from him since. All I know is that he has brown scruffy hair, bright green eyes, and that his name is Jacob Martins. After he left, my mum changed my last name to Styles because she said, "He's not your father anymore."

   "Achoo!" I heard my mum sneeze, and I looked over to bless her. Before I could even turn my head, we were driving into the car in front of us. My mum's head bashed through the window shield, and we were both instantly covered in blood. I felt a sharp pain in my side, and I went black.

   *****************

   I came to hours later, laying in the soft sheets of a bright, white room. "Where the hell am I? Where's my mum?"

   "You're in the hospital." said a young woman, maybe a few years older than me. She was dressed in blue scrubs, with the name Leslie Fisher pinned to her chest.

    "Where's my mum?" That was all I cared about. The last of my worries were the countless tubes running hell knows what into the veins of my arms. She looked at me sadly, as if I were an orphaned child. "I said where the hell is my mum?!" I yelled at her, trying to sit up, but a stabbing pain in my left side restrained me. I groaned out in pain, but persisted with yelling at her.

    "Calm down!" She yelled, and I decided to shut up. "Your mum, sh-she died in the accident. I'm truly, very sorry." I saw her stick a needle into the IV taped to my forearm. "This is anaesthesia. A piece of glass punctured your skin in the wreck and we're performing an epidural micro-graphic surgery to remove it. You're going to go under in a few minutes and when you wake up you'll be okay." I struggled against the straps restraining my arms, but they held me back. My legs went limp, and I felt the wave of anaesthesia taking over my body, starting at the toes, and slowly crawling up my body until it reached my brain, putting me under.

*******************

   "Harry. Harry, please just listen."

   "No. I want Gemma to take care of me." I was in the social services department, surrounded by boring people, in a boring office, discussing boring things. My mums funeral was one week before. I wore black, she wore a dark veil covering her decaying face covered in scars and cuts.

    "Gemma does not have a stable living environment for a growing boy like yourself." He told me. He was wrong.

   "I don't care. It would only be for a year, until I graduate."

  "How exactly do you plan on paying for college, then?" This man is a dream crushing asshole.

  "My inheritance, help from relatives, a scholarship, I'll go to a community college if I have to."

   "I'm sorry Harry, but Gemma does not have the time nor money to take care of a seventeen year old boy right now." I huffed in defeat, knowing there was nothing else I could do the help my argument. "Since all of your relatives in the UK have either declined to take care of you, or are deceased, the only place we could put you is in a boys' home.

  "No. No. There is no way I am living in a fucking orphanage." I gritted my teeth and crossed my arms.

    He looked at me nervously and cautiously, but I was already angry and impatient. "What?" I scoffed at him and he straightened his tie.

   "There is one other option, but there's a very slim likely hood that he'll go through with it." I raised my eyebrow and unfolded my arms. "Your father, Jacob Martins, is willing to take you in. He lives in Wholes Town Michigan, has a steady income, and lives alone. They have a good school system, easy access to buses, a nice neighborhood. I think it would be the best option, but I know you won't want to." He paused as I contemplated my choices carefully. "It''s your choice Harry."