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"You can't do anything right, can you? Ever since you have been born, you have done nothing but cause trouble for me."

Davis' words are slurring. He is wasted. Zayn knows he cannot do much damage, but there is a dangerous glint in his eyes, that tells Zayn to be wary.

Every step Davis takes forward, Zayn takes one back. He wants his nerves to just settle, but his gut is twisting in a way as if to warm him it's not a day Davis will go easy on him.

In fact, the contrary.

"If your mother has not gotten pregnant with you, my lovely wife, Laura, would not have left me."

He raises a hand, and strikes Zayn across the cheek. Zayn winces slightly, hoping it would go unnoticed by Davis. It doesn't.

Davis laughs bitterly, "And any chances of me being even a bit happy of having a son, you come out and say you are a fag! It's all that whore's fault!"

Something inside Zayn snaps. He can hear anything about himself, but not about his mother. His mother is an angel. She is just a victim. She slept with David because she thought he was single, and didn't have a fucking family. When she found out she was pregnant, she came over to his house, only to be introduced to Laura.

Laura left him. And Davis started abusing his mother after he was born that she committed suicide. Then, the abuse just transferred to him and Claire.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have knocked her up! In fact, you never fucking loved Laura! If you had, you wouldn't have —"

Zayn screamed when Davis threw the coffee table at the wall, barely missing him. He gasps, his breathing hard and fast. All his previous anger and bravery has disappeared.

"You useless piece of shit!" Davis growls, picking up one of the empty beer bottle lying there, and smashing it on Zayn.

Zayn had just enough time to block his face. He groans in pain, his eyes squeezing shut tightly.

"Don't. You. Dare. Talk back to me! Do you understand?!"

With each hit, Zayn feels his eyes getting droopy, and when Davis bangs his skull against the wall, darkness surrounds him. He faints.

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