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The Boy Down the Street

Chapter Eight~When can I come home

"N-no! I swear!" I stammpered! Crap! I'm gonna die my mom is gonna kill me! I was dead meat! "Bull! That is a hickey! Are you a prostitute and a druggie!!!!" My grandma yelled. Great. "What's all the yelling about?" My mom said, yelling. Man. Man ooh man oh man! I was about to get murdered! "Your daughter is a whore! That's what all the yelling is about!" I winced at my grandma's hurtful words. "What! Oh my-get out! Now! I'm ashamed you my daughter. You can pack your bags and leave." My mom said, looking at my hickey. I let out a cry. "No! Please! I-" I walked out to my room and filled my duffel bag with my necessities. I said goodbye to my mother and went for a hug. She just glared at me. I sighed and wlked out the door. ZAYN'S POV. I awoke on the floor to the doorbell ringing. I moaned and got up. When I opened the door, I saw a teary Kylie with a duffel bag. "Kylie." I said. "Hey, can I uh, stay with you a bit? Things are bad at home." She said weakly, almost bursting in to tears. Oh god.