Party Of 1 (A Niall Horan Fanfic)

Chapter 11: A Ship Pendant

[A/N The song on the right sets the mood. Listen to it while you read.]

October 15th.

Monday, October 15th, 2013. 11:14 a.m.

The day Rory's life came to a screeching halt. Six hours before 11:14 at 5:15 a.m. Rory had gotten out of bed, ready for what school would bring her. Maybe homework, maybe a new school project. 11:14 a.m., and she wished she had never gotten out of bed. That she had fallen asleep forever. 

At 11:13 in the morning, Rory received a phone call. It was during her free period and the teacher let her into the hall to take it so she wouldn't disturb others in the classroom she was in.

Exactly one minute later she was weeping on the cold tile, her fists banging against the lockers. 

"No!" She kept screaming. "NO!"

Students peered out of classrooms, teachers ran down the hallway. Rory pushed them all away, still banging her hands. Half an hour later, after tiring of moving her arm, she let her math teacher, Mr. Garwick, lead her to the office. From there, one of her mother's friends, and the school secretary, Ms. Finch, take her home. 

Her hood was pulled over her head, conceiling her face. Tears ran down her cheeks, soaking the hem of her tshirt and jacket. Her hands were balled up, pressed against her eyes. Ms. Finch kept trying to talk to Rory, but nothing worked. Rory was in her own world. And she was alone.

Rory's phone kept going off every few seconds. She wanted to throw it out the window, but Ms. Finch always had her windows locked. Ms. Finch had kids of her own, and they were constantly tossing their toys out. 

Ms. Finch dropped Rory off with an expression of pain and sadness. Ms. Finch would be praying for their family tonight. 

Inside the house, Rory's little brother was on the couch in a fetal position. Rory's mother was talking on the phone, her eyes just as puffy and just as red as her children. 

Nothing would ever be the same, she concluded.

Rory ignored her mother's plea's and locked herself in her bedroom. She threw her backpack at the wall, not caring if she broke anything. She pulled the covers over her face, wanting more than anything to go back to this morning when her and her father got into an argument.

"I'm not a little kid anymore! I'm almost 18 for christ's sake you can't keep bossing me around like you boss Adam around!" She screamed at her father, trying to make him understand.

He kept his voice calm. "Rory, it's not that we treat you like a child, you need to ask us permission before you go off to some place, some concert, spend the night at a hotel, with a celebrity -a stranger- nonetheless, and waste three grand on your college fund! We care about you so very much, and this isn't happening again. You're grounded for a month, you can't see Sydney either. If you sneak out, two more months grounded."

"I hate you!" 

Rory screamed, pushing the memory away from herself. She got out of bed. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was deshelved, her eye liner in smears on her cheeks. She turned around, punching a wall as hard as she could. She screamed in pain, looking down at her bloody knuckles, bones protruding from a few of them. She screamed again, crying ever harder. It just isn't fair. It just isn't fair! 

Her mother wouldn't stop weeping. She took Rory to a hospital out of their own town, because they couldn't be anywhere near the hospital where her children's deceased father lay. They just couldn't. It would be too much. 

Rory had broken her hand in four places. A big, bulky blue cast covered half her arm. It was her father's favorite color. 

She would never see him again. The pendant around her neck, also her father's, was of a little ship. Her father had grown up wanting to be a ship captain, he always played with boats. Always admired the sea, and how it sparkled every time of day. His mother had gotten it for him when he was a child, and he gave it to his daughter, Rory, to keep. 

It was all the she had left of him that meant something. 

She would never again feel his warm hugs. Never again would she toss popcorn into his mouth from the other side of the room on family movie night. Never again would she hear the words 'I love you,' from her father.

[A/N This was really hard for me to write. Losing my father is one of my worst fears. No offense is made to those who have lost their dads. I'm very sorry you had to go through that.]