Not The Same (a Liam Payne fan fic)

My Daddy Taught Me That

>Audrey's POV<

I put my brown hair up in a bun and put on a pair of leggings and a tank top. I went into the living room to find Liam sitting on the hotel couch with two cups of tea. Taking one, I sat down next to him.

"Explain." I stared at the mug that was warming up my hands. Telling Liam about my family was the last thing I wanted to do. Telling anyone about my family was hard. It was one topic that I prefered to keep to myself but at the same time, I feel like if you don't know about my family, then you really don't know me. I averted my attention back up to Liam's waiting expression. Realizing I had no choice, I began to tell him the 'tragic' truth.

"If you haven't noticed, my family and I aren't very close. In fact, they don't know anything about me. The day I turned 18 Kiani, Erika, and I moved out to NYC and never looked back." I shrugged and took a sip of my tea and continued to stare at it. I knew I would cry tonight, but maybe I could stay strong if I didn't look at anyone. "They followed. My dad wanted to keep me close. But in reality, he didn't like the fact that if I was in a different state, he couldn't hurt me. He likes to have power and control over me at all times no matter how he can get it. Same with my mom, my sister, and my brother." After a few minutes of silence, in which I didn't trust myself to keep going, Liam spoke.

"What's that supposed to mean." Tears were coming. I had become an expert at telling people things but not saying them. In my lifetime, I had never had to look someone in the eyes and staright up say that my dad was abusive. It was a mind game. People's mind will jump to that conclusion if you give them enough hints. So, I continued with my story.

"My entire life, he's hurt me. Left bruises and scars. I've had to watch him do the same to my mom and siblings. My entire life, everything about me, leads back to him and I hate it. I hate him." I was still refusing to look Liam in the eyes. This was another thing I hate, telling my story to people, because they judge you. I hate looking people in the eye, seeing the compassion and hurt and knowing that they will never understand it the way that you do. They are never going to feel the pain and hurt that I felt. The worst part is that they think they understand, they can picture what it felt like...But the pain that they're thinking of, doesn't even come close to scratching the surface of what it really feels like.

"I don't really understand, you're talking figuratively right." Finally, I dared to look up and said the words that have been on my mind since I was 4 but that I never really had the courage to say.

"My dad is abusive." Warm tears started to creep down my face no matter how hard I tried to stop them. Liam's reaction was the same as all the rest. He just stared at me in complete shock. They all look at me with the same expression, every single person has had the same sadness in their eyes. As if they're saying 'I feel bad for you'. Everytime I see that face, all I want to say is 'you don't understand. You never will.' Soon enough he had put both our mugs on the silver coffee table and had his arms around me. This was always the part where I gave up. It doesn't matter to me if they understand or not, I just need a hug. I layed my head on his shoulder and felt Liam's heartbeat. We sat there for forever, me crying, Liam trying to make me feel better. He kissed the top of my head a few times. Finally, I felt like I needed to finish explaining.

"It doesn't really help that he was an alcoholic." Liam pulled away and looked in my eyes. "Do you want to know the worst part." He nodded. "Every day, he still told me that he loved me. Every single day. That's the part that hurt the most. I would rather him slap me while drunk rather then tell me he loves me while sober." Liam pulled me in for another hug.

"Is that what you're scared of?" He asked, "You don't believe in love because of that?"

"According to my dad, expressing love is beating everybody up." I let out a little laugh at my dumb joke and then got quite serious again. "Love doesn't exist. My daddy taught me that."

I gave myself a couple minutes to steady my voice. My entire life I've tried to make someone understand, but you just can't. I feel trapped and all I want is someone to finally feel that pain. I want to make them understand it and hurt just as bad as I've had to hurt. Liam understood me, usually. I don't care how impossible it is, I am going to make him feel that hurt. So I thought of one specifically painful memory in particular and started a detailed explanation in a quiet voice.

"Imagine you're a six year old in your mothers car at your apartment. You're sitting in the passenger seat while your little baby sister sits in the back, in her car seat." New tears silently made their way down my face, and I could see the discomfort in Liam. He wanted to look away from my eyes, it was obvious. "The first thing I saw when I looked out the driver window were three cop cars with their blue and red lights flashing into a completely black night. My mom was standing on the sidewalk about fifteen feet from the car with the apartment complex behind her. In our living room window, on the second floor, I could see my dad screaming at my grandma and I didn't know if she'd make it out alive or not. Then, as a six year old, I started to wonder if this was it for me. Would I make it out alive?" Just thinking of that moment, made me more pissed off than I had ever been. "I literally wanted to kill myself." I said, barely inaudible as I stared in Liam's brown eyes while he stared in my blue ones. Then, expressing how furious I still am, I screamed words that sometimes I was too afraid to even think, "I WAS SIX YEARS OLD AND WANTED TO KILL MYSELF!" Tears kept on flowing. "That was the minute that I realized that I would have scars for the rest of my life. My 'father' had made those scars." Liam finally looked away because of his own discomfort. I knew I had succeded in making him understand. Grabbing his face in my hands, I forced him to look me in the eyes. I could make out hurt and anger in his eyes and even saw a tear, dangerously close to falling. "But you know what, I am so lucky that those scars are mental. You can't see them. I'm lucky that I don't have scars on the outside too. I could have scars all over my face and body. I could even be dead. But I'm so thankful the physical scars are nonexistent. I am so thankful that I am alive."

Liam's tear finally rolled down his face and he closed the already too small space between us. He kissed me way harder than he had in the past, as if to get out all his anger. For a second, I forgot who we both were and kissed him back, equally as hard.

Pushing him away, I stood from the couch and walked towards the door. He folloewd behind me, confused. I opened the door. "You have to get home to your girlfriend," I motioned for him to leave. Before he walked out of the hotel room, he kissed me on the cheek.

"I'm so thankful you're alive too and even if you did have those scars, you'd still be beautiful." WIth that, Liam left. I spent the rest of the night, crying on the couch over the man who I would never be able to call my father.

---------Author's Note-------

Right on time, a new update. Not gonna lie, I put some really private events and thoughts in this chapter. I hope you guys like it. Also, Happy Thanksgiving! Vote/Comment/Fan

xx, Ashley