Swim Good || Harry Styles Romance

2 - Chum

Year: 2012

Height: 5'7"

Sex: Female

Eye Colour: Green

Hair Colour: Dark Brown

D.O.B.: July 31, 1994

It's probably been twelve years since my father left, left me fatherless. And to help cope with the pain, I would say that I hated him in dishonest jest, when honestly, I missed him. Every time someone would ask, I'd just swallow the truth and spit out the lie. Through the city with criminal stealth, welcome to Chicago, Illinois. Welcome to the enemy turf. Some asshole would always push me over because they were "in a rush", when in all honesty, Chicago is really just a wanna-be New York City. Get up off the pavement and brush the dirt up off my psyche.

Could you imagine my shock? As we made a right turn on Pleasant Avenue, I grew more and more excited to see this man. "Look at that house, mom!" I would shout, pointing out large beige brick and wood houses that must have cost more than 150,000 dollars. My hair was long by now, down to my mid thigh and I could feel my butt tugging at it every time I would jump up and down, I always forget that I manage to sit on it. I saw a 2013 Range Rover sitting in front of it. My mother was having an emergency session with Dr. Church, an emergency session at his home. They still lived with each other, my mom and dad, and by "left me", I mean mentally. He hasn't been there, he hasn't paid much attention to us since then. He's an alcoholic, you see. Unoriginal, right? Everyone has the same sob story. Their father is an alcoholic, they divorce, daughter falls in love with someone and they ALL live happily ever after. The end.

No, not "the end" this time.

Hope, Dr. Church's daughter, always told me to come over to her home. She always told me fun adventures they would have over there. I loved this neighborhood, it was pleasant. So many beautiful homes. I hope I'm a doctor one day, I love those white and long jackets you wear with a stethoscope wrapped around your neck. And those rubber gloves you have to wear, and the rubber hammer you use to test out their reflexes. Visiting the residence of Emma Watson couldn't have been more exciting than this moment right here. A doctor's house. A real life doctor's house, I am going to. I dressed up especially for this day. A beige colored baggy sweater, a pair of brand-new jeans and favorite pair of Aztec-printed TOMS. At the last minute, I added a 1 caret gold bracelet. "It's just down this road, sweetheart," pulled me out of my trance, "On the right."

The street was continuously filled with over-sized homes that fit 10 people when in reality, there was 2, at most 4 people living there. Perfectly trimmed gutters, chimneys stained with smoke, tall and black front doors with glassed trimmed into the middle in an elegant design and porches framed with latticework. "This is beautiful," was all I could muster out, "I want to be a doctor so bad."

And then on the left, I saw one house that didn't fit in with the others. It was as big, as fancy looking, except it was purple. It seemed to sag, like a drunken tree. In a neighborhood of whispers, this was a shriek, or a wail, whichever's worse. "This isn't it, is it?" I asked warily, suddenly feeling panicky. My mother hit the blinker and slid the car over to the side of the road near the driveway, "That's it." I was repulsed immediately. "It can't be!" Utter disbelief. "That's it, Lottie, that's Dr. Church's house," she said, finally. She killed the engine and put the keys in her bag. I waited about 30 seconds before she looked at me, motioning for me to come out.

I got out of the car and shielded my eyes, like a celebrity would when being bothered by the paparazzi. The purple paint needed a new layer, all the windows were closed off with shutters. And the lawn... at least it was at an even and short length and very lush.