No One's Normal (Louis Tomlinson)

Chapter One { Alina's P.O.V. }

     My eyes open to sunlight streaming in from my window. I would appreciate this beautiful sight if it didn't make my migraine worsen. It also didn't do much to keep away the awful flashbacks from last night.

     I cringe as I lift my head from the pillow. I look around my room and inspect the damage. I only spot a few blood stains on the carpet. At least nothing is broken.

     My bones ache as I try to stand. It takes me a minute, but I eventually get up and limp over to my door.

     The damage beyond my room is much worse. Broken glass is scattered across the living room floor from a lamp that had been thrown. It looks like a tornado was here and destroyed everything in it's path.

     I stumble into the kitchen and down three Tylenols with some rusty faucet water. I can barely walk with this pounding headache, so I hope this will help.

     I hear snoring coming from my parents room. Considering how much they drank last night, I'm not surprised that they're still snoozing. I would be fast asleep too after drinking that many bottles of wine.

     The floor beneath me squeaks as I make my way towards the bathroom down the hall. I don't attempt to be quiet because I know that my parents wouldn't wake up even if a freaking nuclear bomb struck our house.

     I turn on the light and study the mess before me. I can't believe that it's me. I've had bruises and cuts on my face before, but never this bad. I look like I got in a knife fight.

     My lip is busted and I have two black eyes. Cuts and bruises cover my entire face.

     All of that can be covered with some makeup. I've became a master at concealing it.

     The only thing I won't be able to cover is my crooked nose.

     I grab my makeup pouch from under the sink. I have the really good makeup from Sephora. Since I can't afford it, I steal it. I'm not proud of doing it, but I need it. I can't go to school looking like Freddy Krueger.

     I grab some concealer and start dabbing it all over my face. After that, I apply foundation and then foundation powder. My face looks cakey, but it's much better than what it looked like before.

     Before putting my stuff away, I add some eyeliner and mascara to look pretty. It makes me look like someone that I'm not, which I like.

     I look at myself in the mirror, studying the girl in front of me. Why do I put up with this on a daily basis? Why can't I be normal? Why can't my parents love me?

     Living a life with no one who loves you is worse than not having a life at all. I would rather be dead than endure this.

     That's it. I have officially had it with their abuse and torture. I'm not going to stay subject to their crappy treatment.

     I leave the bathroom with my makeup pouch in hand. I cross the hall to my room and set everything on my bed.

     My eyes scan the room. Where did I put my old suitcase?

     I get down to my knees and fish my hand under the bed. My hands rest on the hard material and I pull it out.

     It's small, but I guess I don't need to bring that much with me. As long as I'm away from this hell-hole I wouldn't care if I only had the outfit that I'm in.

     I stuff my makeup inside, along with what little clothes and shoes I have. I only need one more thing.

     Like I said before, I don't feel good about stealing but I need it. I won't feel guilty about stealing from my parents though.

     I exit my room with the suitcase rolling behind me. I park the suitcase by the door and then circle back to my parents room.

     Even though they're both passed out, I still make sure to be quiet as I open the door. It squeaks and I cringe, but they don't wake. I let out a sigh of relief and then tiptoe to the dresser in the corner.

     I squat down in front of it. I open the bottom door and rifle through Mom's underwear. Ah, there it is.

     I pull out a large wad of money. There's over ten thousand dollars here. This will be more than enough to buy a plane ticket to America.

     My parents keep this money for their booze and drugs. I like to think that I'm doing them a favor by taking it.

     I close my shaky hands around the money and stand. I take one last look at my parents before shutting the door. I won't miss them at all.

     After shoving the money into the suitcase, I head to the door. This is it. I am finally leaving this awful place that I've called home for sixteen years.

     I shut the front door and walk down the sidewalk and onto the street. I don't feel at all remorseful for leaving. I know they won't care. All I am to them is another mouth to feed.

     They are my parents, after all. Deep down I still love them, but that doesn't mean I can't hate how they've treated me.

     I walk down the street and look at my neighbors houses. They've heard all the screaming and fighting, but not one of them has ever called the police. I wonder how they can sleep at night knowing what's happening just next door.

     Whatever, that's all behind me now. I'm moving to America, where no one will know who I am or what I've been threw.

     A smile creeps onto my lips. I look up at the sky and take a deep breath. "I'm free."

     A/N: Chapter One is finally up! I am beyond excited to finally becoming a Wattpad user (: I have another story called Not My Direction if you want to check that out (even though I haven't started it yet haha) So anyways my Lovelies, please follow @larrvstylinson on Instagram because she made my purdy cover. :D & Don't forget to comment and vote! Also, I have decided that I will post the next chapter at 20 votes. (: