She's Not Afraid. (Niall Horan)

Chapter 18.

Marina's POV

You can't hate your life or be depressed; you're not dying or starving. Contrary to the opinion of narrow-minded people who say that, it's easy to hate your life despite being perfectly healthy and 'well looked after'. It had only been three days since I moved in with my Aunt and let me tell you, the drop from my third story bedroom window was looking more inviting each passing hour. After the phone call with the wicked witch she didn't give me a choice in my next move. I told her I couldn't afford my flat and I begged, pleaded and even got down on my hands and knees – although she couldn't exactly see over the phone – to borrow some money from her, but she wouldn't have any of it. 

"If you can't hold down a job you don't deserve to live by yourself, you're clearly incapable. I will not have you living life too the full, going out partying and getting too drunk to walk with my money. You will move back immediately." 

As much as I wanted to say no, she was no woman to argue with, Renae's temper was just the tip of the iceberg compared to hers. However, I didn't realise she expected me to move back in so suddenly. She demanded I moved in the next day. Packing everything you own into boxes in just a couple measly hours was far from fun, especially with no one to help. Why she was eager for me to move in again was very suspicious but I soon realised she wanted me to act like her personal assistant. I had spent the first day living there unpacking, and the second and third day practically waiting on her hand and foot. Nothing much had changed then since I moved out.

I hated everything about living there. My extremely annoying cousins still lived there; the terrible twins. Although I'm sure terrible wasn't exactly the right word to call them, more like absolutely well untruly unbearable. 'Get me a glass of water', 'Walk my dog', 'Lend me your dress.' They had an endless list of commands and according to their mother I didn't have a choice in the matter, I was living under their roof, eating their food, living of their money. It wasn't arguable; I had to suck it up although I'm not sure how long I could continue this lifestyle. I was starting to think living under a bridge would be more sufferable than this place.

I was almost nineteen, my birthday was only a matter of weeks away and I was currently being treated like a child. I know why my aunt did this, she was the sort of the person to hold a grudge and never let it go. I didn't do anything to her directly; it concerned my parents. But I was their offspringand that was enough of a reason to hate me. I had to go to bed before ten 'o' clock every night – although I had snuck out every night since being here but considering I had no money I ended up just sitting in the park looking for shooting stars to make a wish on. Technically I did have my savings account but I was saving that for a real emergency. Also by living under my Aunt Elizabeth's roof I had to abide by the no mobile phone rule. I was convinced she lived several decades behind everyone else. Her children weren't allowed a mobile therefore neither was I. I tried to hide it, then deny the fact I had one but she found it and now I had no idea where it was – locked in the safe in her office no doubt and of course I had no access to it whatsoever.

**

After having enough of being shouted at all morning I couldn't bare the voice screaming through my ears anymore. I shot my middle finger up at my aunt before storming out of the house. She wanted me to lick envelopes all day for her whilst she sent important letters. I wasn't her little slave despite what she may think. She didn't live in London like I would have preferred, she lived on the outskirts, it was a half an hour train ride to the city but by the time the train pulled into Kings Cross my temper had dropped dramatically. It wasn't exactly an enjoyable journey, I had no music playing device therefore I had to sit and listen to a pair of snobby elder ladies discussing the best way to roast a chicken – apparently a hint of white wine and a pinch of basil should do the trick.