The place I call home (One Direction fan fiction)

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Layla! Get back here!" my father screamed after me as I pedaled away on my bike as far away from him as I could get. I didn't stop until I got to the small tree house by my old house. I looked at the remains of my old house, the place I once called home.

I went up to the tree house and looked at the photo album that was saved from the fire. It held all the memories from my past life. Key word there is past. I flipped through the photo album and start crying when I see the picture of my mother Helen, my sister Claire. I cry even harder when I see the pictures of all of us together. I wish they were still alive. I still blame myself for their death. If I hadn't bought my mom the curtains for her birthday none of this would have happened. If I had known they were flammable I wouldn't have gotten them! I wouldn’t have told my mom to light a candle and put it on the stand beside them. After thinking for a while and remembering recent events, I knew the decision I had to make. I couldn’t let my farther continue doing what he does to me. It wasn’t worth it. I looked at the scars on my wrist and I ran a finger over them. 1 month. I had been one month clean, but staying at that house would change that.

In my head I start forming a plan so that I can get into the house to get some of my belongings and leave quickly. I figured I wouldn’t need much, just a sweatshirt, jeans, my iPod and my iPod charger, and my guitar. I pass the time by listening to One Direction, my all-time favorite band, there's just something about their voices that helps me not lose hope. Before I know it its 10pm, my father should be sleeping by then, so I pedal back to his house. I use the spare key to unlock the door and quietly get into the house. I go up to my room; I grab my duffel bag and stuff clothes in it. I grab my guitar, the one I use to play at coffee shops and clubs for money, and scribble a note to my father telling him not to look for me and that I never want to see him again.

As I am walking down the stairs I knock over a plant and it breaks "Crap" I mumble to myself, "LAYLA!! LAYLA IS THAT YOU?!" my father voice booms from his room, I can tell by the way his words are slurring and he is stumbling that he's drunk. I need to get out of their now or I will never be able to leave. I ran outside and jumped my bike; I ride like my life depends on it, because in a way it does. I don't stop in fear that he is following me, I get about 7 blocks and when I turn the corner I hear the screeching if the tires, and then everything goes black.

Liam's POV:

"Thank you California!" I scream into my mic, and the crowd screamed back. We exit off the stage and go back to our dressing room. "I think that's the biggest crowd yet" Harry says while wiping the sweat off his face with a towel. "Yea but I'm bummed it's our last one" Niall replies heading toward the snack bar they set up for us.

"But now we can to the big celebration party!" Zayn always looks forward to the after party's. Of course I'm the one in charge of taking care of them afterwards. Good thing I made them pack everything from the hotel before the concert because we are leaving tomorrow morning and knowing them, they'll be so hung over in the morning that they won't want to pack.

"PARRRTTTYYYYY!" Louis screams as he runs in with a pack of cookies. We all laugh, and when we sober up I tell them we have to go. The party is being hosted by one of our close friends Ariana Grande. We grab our stuff and make our way towards the limo.

While we were waiting for the Limo driver we got a call and it was Paul saying that the driver got sick so he drove him to the hospital. That explains why there is a limo but no one inside.

"Do you guys want me to send another driver? It will take about half an hour though." Paul said through the phone.

I asked the boys, and we all agreed that it would take too long.