1:
Aimee Fawn was adopted by Michael Clifford at the age 21 when Michael moved out and had a place of his own. it was more of a best friend relationship that they both shared before it was taken into Michael's own hands, as he then asked Aimee if he can adopt her.
Aimee always had family troubles. every turn and decision she made ended up with the same consequence, a good hit, pull of the hair, and locked in her room-not allowed to eat dinner.
it took her over three years to confront Michael what was happening at home, and why she would occasionally walk across the street, with a new bruise either hidden underneath her top, or one placed on the corner of her eye.
she never really had a loud voice to begin with, so Michael was the only one who really knew how Aimee was being treated by her own parents.
-
flashback
"Michael," Aimee spoke as he raised his eyebrow at the mention of his name.
"yeah Aimee?"
she sighed in response, kicking her legs over the edge of the car as they sat on the back of his truck, looking at the sunset as it slowly met the ground, causing the moon to kiss the sky and stars started to dance.
"I really don't want to go home," she spoke after a good ten minutes of silence.
she took her hood off her head revealing the bruise that was placed on her right cheek, the same bruise that was caused only hours before.
Michael's eyes softened, as he immediately tensed up, before finding his long, pale fingers-hovering over the bruise as tears pricked the corner of his eyes.
"who keeps doing this to you?" he whispered as she chewed down on her bottom lip, tearing her gaze away from his.
"i- i can't tell you," she stuttered, her voice was shaky as a lump formed in the back of her throat, causing a stream of tears to roll down her rosy cheeks.
Michael was quick to cup her cheeks softly, not wanting to hurt Aimee as he bought her face to his, watching as she was shaking her head, her own self was crumbling right between his fingers.
"Aimee, I've known you for three years. you can trust me," he said soothingly, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away the tears as she locked her eyes with his.
"baby, who is doing this to you?" he asked softly, his voice was calm, but as soon as the words left her chapped lips, the flames inside of Michael erupted.
"my parents," she sobbed. "please don't do anything Michael, they-they will hurt me eve-even more," she begged with every strength she had left in her fragile body.
Michael couldn't believe his ears, watching, every move that Aimee made, before kicking his dry lips and taking a deep breath.
"i will do whatever i can to take you away from that place,"
and he meant it, he kept his word: because 2 months later, he called the cops on Aimee's drunken abusive mother, and took Aimee home with him, her sobs and cries were the only sound that was filled inside of the car.
"s-she got you so bad baby," Michael spoke, before pulling into his drive way and studied the bloody cut that was placed on her eyebrow.
her face was beaten up, shattered glass was at the roots of her hair as her left eye was swollen and bruised to the colour of purple and yellow.
her white top was now covered in a stain of alcohol, the smell lingered within the air causing Michael to gag.
yet, there was three burns that were placed on her wrist, that caught his attention.
"cigarette burns," Aimee muttered in response, knowing that Michael was staring at them as his face fell for the tenth time that day.
"Aimee, i won't let you see your mother ever again, i won't let her touch you or get any contact with you. i promise you that," Aimee only nodded in response, her heart aching at the pain and the amount of tears that fell into her hands.
"where was your father in all this?" Michael asked, grabbing hold of her hand softly intertwining it with hi as she gave a small soft smile.
"hes dead," she choked out, before opening the car door and walking up the steps to the front door of Michael's house, his mouth was dry as he followed her.
"i wish it was my mother as well,"
flashback end
-
the sound of birds chirping caused Aimee to stir within her bed covers, a loud groan escaped her lips as the sunlight made its way past her slightly opened curtains.
"Sunday!" Michael yelled before laughing, the sound of his laughter filled the kitchen as Aimee smiled softly at her step-father before pushing the covers off her feet and sitting up.
the sight of white work sheet papers were scattered across her room and bed, as memories off the previous night of studying flashed through her brain as she rolled her eyes.
"Aimee!" Michael yelled, knocking on her door before pushing it open as his bright red hair stood out.
"oh my god, Mikey!" Aimee gasped, as she scrambled to her feet and jumped off her bed to pay attention to the new coloured hair he has.
Michael grinned widely, "you do realise you're going to have no hair by tomorrow..." she warned as Michael shrugged.
"i'm just being creative,"
she laughed, "the only creativity you have in that head of yours is how to design your own pizza,"
"which might i add, is the best pizza you've ever tried!" he interrupted as Aimee only laughed, slightly nudging his shoulder as he smiled at the contact.
"come on dad," she mumbled, as her ears immediately perked up at the scent of pancakes trailing form the kitchen.
"okay, what's the special occasion?" she mumbled as Michael smirked, grabbing her wrist softly and pulling her towards the kitchen.
"breakfast!" he exclaimed, pointing towards the numerous amount of plates of food that sat so neatly on the bench.
Aimee smiled, before letting her eyes wonder across the plate of pancakes, and another filled pop-tarts, and another with melted chocolate and diced up fruit.
"Chocolate!" she grinned, before running over to get the chocolate as Michael stopped her in her path.
she pouted, "what's the catch?"
he smirked, "nothing, i invited the boys over, is that okay?"
Aimee huffed in annoyance, before slightly nodding.
"i'll go have a shower then,"
Michael watched as she shut the bathroom door behind her and grabbed out his phone from his back pocket.
Calum: he wants to come
Ashton: no he cant
Calum: why? guys, i feel bad
Ashton: let me remind you, he accused you of smoking pot
Calum: so? he's done worst things
Ashton: oh yeah. like remember the time where you said he needed to lay off the drugs? and he hit your bass multiple times against the hard floor?
Calum: he did apologise.
Ashton: or about the time where he stole Michaels car?
Ashton: and the time where he always pushed me around, physically and mentally
Michael: who are you talking about?
Calum: the penguin
Ashton: his name is Luke Calum.