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The Carnival

Cheryl's POV-

The next day was a day full of mixed feelings. It was my last weekend in the Direction household, as Niall likes to call it, and I was too depressed to enjoy it.

“Come on, get out!” Louis yelled, pulling on my leg. I shook my head, burrowing even deeper into the blankets.

“You’re just wasting time! We planned something specially for you! Get out!” I shook my head again, unwilling to get out of bed. I was scared I might cry, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Wakey wakey!” Niall shouted as he entered the room, his guitar slung over his shoulder. “We’re going somewhere fun!” He strummed a few bars and danced around my room.

“I’m awake!” A voice said. My eyes shot open in surprise.

“Zayn?” I asked in disbelief. “You’re awake!”

“Yes I am, and you’ve got to wake up and keep me company!”

“Not gonna happen.” I mumbled.

“We planned this day for you!” Harry said, kneeling down so he was level with me. “We can’t enjoy it without you! Please get up.”

“Where we going?”

“The carnival!” Liam answered.

They waited excitedly for my response. I sat up suddenly, taking them all by surprise.

“That was where my dad got drunk and hit me for the first time.” I could tell that they had not been expecting that.

“Oh.” They said in unison.

“Then let’s go there and have some happy memories to replace the bad ones!” Louis suggested. I shook my head yet again.

“You’re coming whether you want or not. We are in charge!” Niall said.

“You aren’t my parents. You can’t make me do stuff.”

“We’re your older brothers. And we’re forcing you to come!”

Louis pulled me up from his bed and carried me downstairs. He opened the door and went outside with me still in his arms.

“Put me down, you psycho.” I kicked him feebly. “I’m still wearing my pajamas.”

“Right.” He carried me back inside the house and put me down on a chair. “Eat your breakfast and we’re going out.”

I started spooning cereal in my mouth slowly, trying not to vomit. I could still remember that day at the carnival so clearly like it was yesterday. The memory made me feel sick. I didn’t want to go back to the carnival for precisely that reason. That day was the start of the nightmare that was my life…

“Daddy, can I get some cotton candy?” I asked, skipping alongside my dad happily.

“OK. Hop along and buy it yourself.” I looked at the coins in my hand and grinned, then rushed off quickly to the friendly lady who sold cotton candy.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” I took the gigantic cotton candy and took a bite gleefully. I looked around to find daddy and share the cotton candy with him.

“Daddy?” I asked, walking past the roundabout and hotdog stalls.

“Daddy!” I started feeling scared, running around the carnival. Still no sign of him.

Suddenly, an arm grabbed my shirt and pulled me behind a stall. It stank of rotten hotdogs, cotton candy and mostly, beer. I screamed, but my cries were muffled when a hand was clamped over my mouth.