My Hope (Louis Tomlinson FanFic) *Completed*

Chapter 7

*Might be triggering! Not sure!*

*Kayla's POV*

-Flashback-

     "Come on! We want to go eat!" Mum whined, hanging off dad's arm, a goofy smile on her face. Dad smiled and chuckled.

     "Fine then. Let's go before you pull my arm off, woman!" he exclaimed. She laughed and grabbed my little 7 year old hand in one of her own, holding dad's arm in her other. We walked out to the car and mum strapped me into my little car seat, kissing my forehead after she was finished. She got in the front seat with dad, her black hair falling down her back, blue eyes twinkling.

     "Where are we going to eat?" Dad said.

     "Anne's!" I screamed, throwing my hands up. I absolutely loved Anne's, a little diner owned by an old married couple. Their milkshakes were the best.

     "Anne's it is!"

~After Anne's~

     "Jessicaaaaa...your eyes are sooooo pretty!" dad slurred his words, stumbling slightly. Dad had gotten a couple of beers at Anne's, which they just started selling.

     I giggled at my dad's childness as I got into my car seat, with mum's help, of course. Mum just rolled her eyes at my dad and held her hand out for the keys.

     "You're not driving. Hand 'em over."

     "Whhhhat? NO! I'm driving. Get in the car." Dad just grumbled and started the car. Mum started to protest before he started to slowly move the car forward. She rolled her eyes and jumped in the passenger's seat before he could go anywhere without her.

     "If you crash, I'll kill you." Mum shot at him. He just chuckled and shook his head, continuing down the road.

     We had been driving for a few minutes before dad started swerving to the music to try and make me laugh, succeeding in his attempts. I giggled uncontrollably as mum yelled at him jokingly. Dad covered his eyes with one of his hands, probably to attempt a joke again. Only this time, I didn't laugh. Mum didn't roll her eyes, and the car didn't go back to normal speed.

     No, instead, the car swerved off road at a fast speed, faster than we were supposed to go. Dad uncovered his eyes and looked up, letting out a yelp. He yanked the wheel to the right, getting back on the road, still going fast.  He chuckled a bit, looking back at me. Mum screamed.

     I looked forward, away from dad's face in time to see headlights of the semi coming towards us.

-1 year later-

     "Dad, I'm home!" I yelled throughout the house. I dropped my little princess book bag on the ground, running into the living room, passing the pictures of my mum.

     It's been a year without her and it always feels like she just left yesterday.

     "Dad! I got a-" I was cut shot at the sight in front of me. There stood my father, a beer bottle clutched in his hand, his eyes bloodshot. A picture of him, mum and I at his feet, the glass shattered.

    "Dad, what-"

     "Don't call me that." His voice was grave. "I never asked to be your dad. Dad is the name for someone willing to be there. I'm just your father, nothing more. You're worthless to me," he spat. I felt tears come to my eyes and I fought to keep them down.

     That was the day that I stopped talking. That was the day I stopped hoping to have a normal life.