You Found Me--A Ziall FanFiction *hiatus*

Chapter One--Faded Memories and Dust Bunnies

Chapter One

Faded Memories and Dust Bunnies

It was the cold morning of January 12th and it was Zayn Malik's 18th birthday. The boy didn't have anything special planned because no one did anything nice for Zayn for his birthday for the past 5 years. Ever since the day his father died, nothing was pleasant in Zayn's life.

On Zayn's 13th birthday, his present was finding out that his father had been murdered. It had been the worst day of the young Bradford boy's short life. Instead of receiving the new bike that he had asked for, he had lost the most of important person in his life.

He immediately noticed that his mother's demeanor about everything dramatically changed. She wasn't his loving mother anymore. She was his master. She ordered Zayn around like he was a slave.

She was the beneficiary of all of Yaser's money and property; she sold the house, and moved her family to somewhere more in the country. She wanted to be away from people. They moved to Ireland.

They moved into a humongous mansion on the side of a large mountain. It costed so much money, Zayn could just tell.

The woman bought jewelry, furniture, everything she wanted. She bought everything that her daughters, Zayn's sisters, wanted as well. They left Zayn with nothing but faded memories and dust bunnies.

Zayn was reminiscing in the attic which had become his bedroom. On each of his birthdays, he would sit on his mattress (he didn't have a bed) and he would think about his father and the way his family was before Yaser was murdered.

He was thinking about his 10th birthday, when his father had taken him and Harry to the amusement park. That had been an amazing day. He was smiling at the memory when..

"ZAAAYYYN!" Came a voice from downstairs.

Zayn sighed heavily and got up off of his dirty mattress. He bent down and straightened out the pillow and blanket, making it neat. Zayn was a very neat person. The attic he resided in was very tidy, considering he was a teenage boy. You wouldn't even know he had lived in there, had it not been for the mattress in one corner and the small bag filled with the only clothes he owned, in the opposite corner.

"ZAAAYYYNNNNN MAALIIKK!" came the booming voice again.

Zayn straightened his clothes on his back and scurried down the stairs to the second floor. He jogged over to his mums large bedroom and invited himself inside.

"Yes mum...?" He said as he entered the room.

Tricia Malik was a petite woman. She had jet black hair like Zayn, and brown eyes. She was sat up in her bed, arms crossed, and a scowl etched on her tanned, slightly wrinkled face.

"Zayn...I'VE BEEN CALLING YOU FOR MINUTES WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?!" Zayn's mum suddenly outbursts. Zayn was used to his mother's yelling. He just stood there, with an expressionless face, listening to all the bad things Tricia was saying about her son.

"...AND YOU'RE A GOOD FOR NOTHING LITTLE PRICK!" she had finished screaming at Zayn.

Zayn hung his head and sighed inaudibly. If his mother heard him sign she would have gotten up and hit him across the face. She was very sensitive and abusive.

"I'm sorry mum. What is it you called me for?" Zayn asked his rude mother as politely as he could.

Tricia got up out of her bed and walked over to Zayn. She slapped him across his face.

"Don't you EVER disrespect me like that again, or you're FUCKED!" she threatened. Zayn nodded.

"Yes mum. Sorry mum." He said to her softly, trying not to react to the smack he has received.