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Being One Direction's Siblings [PROGRESS PAUSED]

Chapter 1

"Waliyha! Can you get me a glass of water?" Dad called from the living room. I left my iPhone on my bed and went to the kitchen to fetch my father a glass of water.

"Coming!" I called, from my bedroom.

I went into the kitchen, grabbed the nearest clean glass and filled up with cold water. Wiping the water off the bottom of the glass, I took the glass of water to my dad.

"Here you go, daddy." I say happily, handing the glass to my father.

"Why did you give me warm water?!" He screamed at me, after drinking one small sip of water.

"I-" I started, trying to defend myself, but he cut me off.

"And look at this filthy glass, water is dripping from the bottom!" He shouted in my face, tears started to form in my eyes. I did not dare shed a tear, I hated to look vulnerable in front of others.

Quickly taking the full glass of water I dumped it all out in the kitchen sink. Since mom was there she took the glass filled it with water just the way he liked it.

I returned the new glass of cold water to dad. He drank the whole thing.

"Useless idiot." Dad muttered, as I put the now empty glass to the kitchen and slowly made my way back to my room.

Shutting the bedroom door, I threw myself on to my bed.

Even though I was absolutely used to his harsh comments it hurt every time.

"Waliyha! Waliyha!" Muhammad, my baby brother, called me.

"Coming!" I called back.

I quickly approached the living room where the rest of my family was.

"Are you deaf?!" Dad sneered at me.

"I did not hear you call. My, uh, A.C. was on." I stuttered.

"Alright then. Don't turn on your AC. Obviously you are too deaf to hear anything with it on!" He continued screaming at me.

My lips trembled.

"Now idiot. Do you not know how to close a damn door?!" Dad shouted at me. I was searching for the right words, nothing.

"Ugh! As punishment go open and closed your door 10 times. Count each time you do, loudly! If I hear one sound of the door closing, you will have to do it 10 more times." Dad angrily said.

I did as I was told, but with no heart. After I was done he called me again.

"Now go stand on the balcony. For, an hour." He angrily ordered me.

I slowly made my way to the cold balcony. Even though it was the middle of summer. It was really cold out on the balcony.

“It is 10:00 pm. At 11:00, I could leave.” I told myself.

I am used to this types of punishment. He even made me stand out here once for more than 8 hours …
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am Waliyha Ibrahim. I'm a 15 year old girl living a hell life.

I was born in some unknown place, I have never know my real family. When I was four years old I had lost them. Although, I landed with a very nice family had adopted me. I had an older brother and parents who loved me dearly.

From there I meet three of my world’s best friends.
When I became around 11 years old, a couple with two younger sons, calmed to claim me as theirs. That is when my entire life turned into hell.

For 4 years now, I have been living with this family who treats me like I am a useless pig. My freedom has been taken away from me. I have lost all my friends, and I became an victim of everyone.

On my fifteenth birthday my "mom" told that they weren't actually my real family.

That pretty much broke me. I was living in hell for no reason at all.

So, I live with fake parents and two fake brothers. One of them is ten years old, Bilal, he is a big annoying thing. The other on is 4 years old, Muhammad, he cries all the time.

Honestly, there is nothing good about my life at home or school. I have no friends, and everyone hates me.

My so-called-father hates me and I don't even know why. My "mom" says he just cannot stand to see me happy, well I guess no one can. My “mom” says he doesn’t like because of what I did in fourth grade and sixth grade.

*FLASHBACK*

In fourth grade, a classmate and I were talking about our parents and what they would do if we got bad marks in our report cards.

"My father would beat me with a wooden stick. Or his bare hand. Which feels like solid metal." I say to him.

Apparently my teacher, Mr. MacDonald, had overheard what I had said.

"Waliyha, can I talk to you for a second?" Mr. MacDonald asked.

"Sure." I replied. I approached my teacher.

"What would your dad do if you got bad marks on your report card?" He asked.

"He would beat me." I remember saying shyly. I also remember begging him not to say anything bad about me at the parent teacher interview.

I reckon that the interview went fine. Also, the day after a social council asked to talk to me during the second test we had all year.

I council was a kind-hearted, young woman named Ms. Jones.

She asked me sever questions about my family and I answers all of them truthfully. By the end she knew all about the harsh words my dad tells me, the hurtful punishments I get and all the hard beatings I received.

Two days later, Ms. Jones, called my parents telling them how I told on them to the people who patently work really close to the police.

My parents had told them that everything was fine now and nothing was wrong. They had influenced me to do the same.

After several moments if trying to convince them. They finally gave in and left us alone.

My 'dad' said I could've split the family apart if they found out. In anger and shock that I would sell my parents out, my 'father' made me stand in the balcony for eight hours long.

In fifth grade, I got some good friends, after I gave in and told me teachers that I was being bullied.

In sixth grade, I became fed up with my parents’ abuse actions toward me and, that I became to self-harm.

After a week my friends finally told my sixth grade teacher, Ms. Johnson.

This is time the police were involved, after more convincing that everything was okay. My 'dad' did not talk to me for over a month.

When he started to talk to me again, he had taken the family out to watch a movie. When we had come back I accidentally closed the car door a little too hard.

The next morning he was swearing at the non-atop until he finally gave up and kicked me out if the house for several hours.
And again, he stopped talking to me for another couple of months.

*END OF FLASHBACK*

"Waliyha, it is 11:00 you could go now." Mom quietly informed me.

Dad had turned off his laptop and went off to sleep. I glanced at the clock it read 11:05. I could go and get some sleep now.

I cried silently for hours before my eyes have out and I fell into a restless sleep.

Notes

First Chapter.

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Comments

update love, i'm enjoying this a lot with all the love Serenity

Yar are you EVER gonna update???

Laila Haider Laila Haider
3/11/15

u HAVE got to update please dont ditch a perfectly ama-zayn story!!!!

Vanessa Horan Vanessa Horan
2/9/15

YAY AN UPDATE!!!!!

Laila Haider Laila Haider
2/2/15

amazing update thanks!

Vanessa Horan Vanessa Horan
1/31/15