Dear Iris [h.s]

chapter twenty three.

Iris Grace

He's all I've been able to think about since last night. I walked home and kept wondering whether he'd be okay. I was awake all night thinking about how unfairly he's treated by his family. This morning while walking home, I kept thinking about him. He won't get out of my head.

Anxiety swam through my veins as I walked up the driveway, worried about what could be said when I walk through that front door. I know it'll be nothing positive,because godforbid anybody in my family has anything nice to say.

It's so exhausting having people who consistently, only recognise your flaws. There's ever a ounce of praise that comes from their mouths and as much as I try to kid myself into saying it's alright, it hurts, because I've grown up thinking I'll never be good enough for my own family. People compliment me nowadays, Chrstina tells me as a best friend she's proud of me, and I don't even know how to act.

I can't count on two hands how many times my younger self just wanted somebody to say they were proud of her. She went through hell and to get where I am now, I am proud. I just wish there were other people who were too.

When the front door clicked shut behind me, I wandered through to the living room where my dad, Thomas and my mum were sitting with a cup of tea in front of the TV. My dad shook his head right as I walked in and Thomas rolled his eyes. I've never felt so out of place in my life.

"Where'd you run off to last night then Iris?" My dad asked in that familiar patronising tone, knowing all too well where I ran off to.

"Don't." I said sternly, standing my own ground for once. "I went to walk the six year old girl Thomas frightened last night home, because her brother couldn't walk without tumbling over and the poor girl was terrified. You do not get to tell me I was wrong for that."

"With Harry then?" My dad asked, shaking his head.

"I was making sure Harper got home alright. She's six years old." I tried not to get too frustrated, but it's really difficult when they're looking at me like I'm the one in the wrong. "Don't you dare sit there and tell me that I'm a bad person for that, when Thomas and George didn't give two shits about-"

"You better watch how you talk to me, Iris Grace." My dad raised his voice as he stood up, my mum got up and walked out the room. Clearly it's too tense for her and she refuses to pick sides. Her getting up and leaving shows she choses my dad's though, she always has taken his side.

"Stop treating me like I'm not a grown woman who can make her own decisions in life!" I exclaimed, shocking both Thomas and my dad, igniting fury within the both of them.

"Last time you made your own decisions you fucked up Iris! You made a fool of us all!" My dad shouted back, words coming out like knives aiming straight at my heart. "Andrew was your one shot at not ending up fucked up Iris and look what you did to that. You think I'm going to watch you waste your life away, let Harry fucking Styles persue you? I won't, two wrongs don't make a right and I refuse to let you ruin your life more than you have already."

I felt my eyes begin to burn, my heart started to ache and I had to swallow back the urge to cry. I hate that this is all  it takes to make me upset, but when the one thing that ruined your life is also the one thing your family holds against you, it makes things so much worse.

"That's unfair." My voice quivered.

My dad shook his head and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Look at you. Don't dish out what you can't handle."

Thomas chuckled quietly under his breath as my dad stood staring at me waiting for a reaction. I didn't know how to respond though, I expected shit, but not this. He knows how much I hate talking about that. They have a much different perception of my past than I do, yet it's their version that everyone believes, because why would anyone trust the girl who paints for a living and is yet to experience real life?