Xenophobia
TWENTY FIVE
A/N- I just wanted to say a massive massive thank you to those who have voted! Xenophobia now has 34 votes!!! Yaaaay!!!!! Please continue to vote and comment, it is holy appreciated. Now I hope you enjoy this chapter. It does contain physical violence and if you are not comfortable with that, you are free to skip the chapter! Xxx
Khai's POV
"Here Khai, I made you some tea," Blue says once he hands me the warm cup. I stare at the blue printed mug, laughing internally assuming Blue chose the blue cup because his name was Blue. Get it? Blue hasn't left my side since Christmas Eve. We've grown closer and closer with every passing minute.
He's become my source of happiness ever since my realization and the lack of contact between Harry and I. I am no longer suffocating on my own carbon dioxide under my blanket. My hair isn't knotted and the bags under my eyes are slowly, but surely fading. My mother and Joanna have also created a closer bond. My mother seems happier, more full of life. Worry is no longer implanted in her eyes and I couldn't be more appreciative of Mrs. Fahy for providing that.
He hands me a tissue paper with an oatmeal cookie inside. "I remember you saying chocolate makes you break out."
"Thanks," I accept the cookie, taking a bite from it.
Blue takes a seat beside me on the couch. The Sunday afternoon was cold and dark, very much expected seeing that we are in the season of winter. The streets were quiet. Families tucked inside, spending as much time as they can with one another before the New Year begins and they all return to work or school. Blue starts up about Drake's new album. He says that Drake the epitome of a rap God. And when I tell him I haven't heard it yet, he insisted (well, dragged me by my feet to my room) to listen to it.
The album was called 'If You're Reading This Its Too Late', which in my opinion is far too long to be the name of an album. We were just about a half hour into the album when the doorbell rang. My mother was out at work, so it was me who had to get the door. I left Blue in my room doing the nae nae, singing something about running the the six with his woe. Whatever that was suppose to mean...
The doorbell rung again and again and again. Whoever was outside was persistent, and it was starting to annoy me. "I'm coming!"
I opened the door, my eyes widening at the sight in front of me. There stood no other than Mark Styles himself, accompanied by his wife and two police officers.
"Where the fuck is my son?" He seethed. I am taken aback at his use of profanity. My mouth could not form words as I see him barge into my house along with Harry's mother and the two built officers.
"I asked you a question," a vein is evidently showing at the left side of his neck, indicating anger. "Where is my son?! What did you do to him you fucking rat!?" Mark's wife places her hand on his shoulder to somewhat calm him, but it doesn't work. Not at all.
"Mark," she pleadingly whispered. "Calm down."
"No Isabella! This cretin has taken our son hostage. Men, search this entire house." The men didn't hesitate to start opening doors and cabinets throughout the house. My heart was beating erratically, but I've mustered up enough courage to form words.
"What the hell are you doing? You have no right!" I fight back the tears threatening to spill as I see one of the officers accidentally (at least I think it was) break a vase my father had gotten my mother on a trip in Africa.
At this time, I hear the music in my room cease and I knew Blue was about to see the mess that was in my living room all too soon.
Mark's finger was soon repeatedly jabbing my chest as he spoke, "My son has not been home for a week. He's missed Christmas. I know it's because of you, it has always been you!" Mark grabs a hold of my collar, his face inches away from mine. The tears have managed to escape my eyes, painting my cheeks with the transparent liquid. Fear. True fear is exactly what I was experiencing at this moment. I have never been handled like this before, never in my life. And to have two officers witnessing this and do nothing traumatizes me further.
I wasn't aware of the fact that Harry missed Christmas. I didn't know where he is and the oblivion hurts my heart.
"What the fuck is this?!" Blue. At this time I am crying so much my throat begins to burn. I cannot meet
Blue's eyes as I shut mine out of fear that Mark will do something to harm me physically.
Mark lets go of me, pushing me to the side and I open my eyes. His green eyes meets Blue's. The tension is thick in the air and I am almost suffocating.
"Who the hell are you?" Mark spits.
Blue notices me on the floor and his eyes soften before he returns his gaze to the monster in front of him. His voice is calm as he speaks, "I suggest you leave right fucking now before I kick your ass."
Mark's boisterous laugh hurts my ears and from my peripheral, I see Mrs. Styles exit the house. "Hurt me? Son, do you know who I am?"
"No and quite frankly I don't give a shit," Blue walks over to the door and opens it wider "So yeah, get out."
Mark's gaze is returned to me and before I knew it, I am hoisted up by his rough hands. But as quickly as they came, they left. It's as if everything begins to slow down as Blue's fist comes in contact with Mark's nose, then using his right knee to come in contact with his chest, sending Mark to my floor. Blood oozes from his nose and soon enough, the officers are making their way towards Blue himself. I watch in horror as Blue is sent to the floor by a forceful push, but he soon recovers, sending a loose shoe he found at the doormat into the man's crotch. The man is sent to the floor, clutching his package and soon, the second officer is launching himself at Blue.
"Stop it!" All actions come to a halt when our eyes are averted to Mrs. Styles standing at the door. Her usual soft eyes are filled with rage and a hint of concern. "Marco, Franklin, you leave those poor kids alone." Her makeup is smudged due to the tears running down her cheek. The men oblige, backing away from us. It is not over yet, though, as Isabella makes her way towards her husband and I am shocked when she sends her foot into his chest.
"I'm filing for a divorce," she says before leaving.
Mark struggles to get up, but once he does, he sends his bloody saliva in my direction. It hits my face and I let out a cry. "Fucking slave," he mutters before collecting his men and leaving my house.
I am crying when Blue comes over to wrap his hands around me.
I am crying when he gets my mother on the phone.
I am crying when he gets his mother on the phone.
I am crying when both my mother and Joanna reach, flooding Blue with questions.
I am crying when my mother starts crying.
I am crying when my mother calls for a lawyer.
I am crying when my mother expresses her gratitude towards Blue.
I am crying when my mother wraps her sweet hands around me, assuring me that everything will be okay.
But it won't be okay. Because the man I am in love with is missing and I am never going to be socially accepted due to the pigment of my cells.
So I continue to cry, and cry and cry.
Khai's POV
"Here Khai, I made you some tea," Blue says once he hands me the warm cup. I stare at the blue printed mug, laughing internally assuming Blue chose the blue cup because his name was Blue. Get it? Blue hasn't left my side since Christmas Eve. We've grown closer and closer with every passing minute.
He's become my source of happiness ever since my realization and the lack of contact between Harry and I. I am no longer suffocating on my own carbon dioxide under my blanket. My hair isn't knotted and the bags under my eyes are slowly, but surely fading. My mother and Joanna have also created a closer bond. My mother seems happier, more full of life. Worry is no longer implanted in her eyes and I couldn't be more appreciative of Mrs. Fahy for providing that.
He hands me a tissue paper with an oatmeal cookie inside. "I remember you saying chocolate makes you break out."
"Thanks," I accept the cookie, taking a bite from it.
Blue takes a seat beside me on the couch. The Sunday afternoon was cold and dark, very much expected seeing that we are in the season of winter. The streets were quiet. Families tucked inside, spending as much time as they can with one another before the New Year begins and they all return to work or school. Blue starts up about Drake's new album. He says that Drake the epitome of a rap God. And when I tell him I haven't heard it yet, he insisted (well, dragged me by my feet to my room) to listen to it.
The album was called 'If You're Reading This Its Too Late', which in my opinion is far too long to be the name of an album. We were just about a half hour into the album when the doorbell rang. My mother was out at work, so it was me who had to get the door. I left Blue in my room doing the nae nae, singing something about running the the six with his woe. Whatever that was suppose to mean...
The doorbell rung again and again and again. Whoever was outside was persistent, and it was starting to annoy me. "I'm coming!"
I opened the door, my eyes widening at the sight in front of me. There stood no other than Mark Styles himself, accompanied by his wife and two police officers.
"Where the fuck is my son?" He seethed. I am taken aback at his use of profanity. My mouth could not form words as I see him barge into my house along with Harry's mother and the two built officers.
"I asked you a question," a vein is evidently showing at the left side of his neck, indicating anger. "Where is my son?! What did you do to him you fucking rat!?" Mark's wife places her hand on his shoulder to somewhat calm him, but it doesn't work. Not at all.
"Mark," she pleadingly whispered. "Calm down."
"No Isabella! This cretin has taken our son hostage. Men, search this entire house." The men didn't hesitate to start opening doors and cabinets throughout the house. My heart was beating erratically, but I've mustered up enough courage to form words.
"What the hell are you doing? You have no right!" I fight back the tears threatening to spill as I see one of the officers accidentally (at least I think it was) break a vase my father had gotten my mother on a trip in Africa.
At this time, I hear the music in my room cease and I knew Blue was about to see the mess that was in my living room all too soon.
Mark's finger was soon repeatedly jabbing my chest as he spoke, "My son has not been home for a week. He's missed Christmas. I know it's because of you, it has always been you!" Mark grabs a hold of my collar, his face inches away from mine. The tears have managed to escape my eyes, painting my cheeks with the transparent liquid. Fear. True fear is exactly what I was experiencing at this moment. I have never been handled like this before, never in my life. And to have two officers witnessing this and do nothing traumatizes me further.
I wasn't aware of the fact that Harry missed Christmas. I didn't know where he is and the oblivion hurts my heart.
"What the fuck is this?!" Blue. At this time I am crying so much my throat begins to burn. I cannot meet
Blue's eyes as I shut mine out of fear that Mark will do something to harm me physically.
Mark lets go of me, pushing me to the side and I open my eyes. His green eyes meets Blue's. The tension is thick in the air and I am almost suffocating.
"Who the hell are you?" Mark spits.
Blue notices me on the floor and his eyes soften before he returns his gaze to the monster in front of him. His voice is calm as he speaks, "I suggest you leave right fucking now before I kick your ass."
Mark's boisterous laugh hurts my ears and from my peripheral, I see Mrs. Styles exit the house. "Hurt me? Son, do you know who I am?"
"No and quite frankly I don't give a shit," Blue walks over to the door and opens it wider "So yeah, get out."
Mark's gaze is returned to me and before I knew it, I am hoisted up by his rough hands. But as quickly as they came, they left. It's as if everything begins to slow down as Blue's fist comes in contact with Mark's nose, then using his right knee to come in contact with his chest, sending Mark to my floor. Blood oozes from his nose and soon enough, the officers are making their way towards Blue himself. I watch in horror as Blue is sent to the floor by a forceful push, but he soon recovers, sending a loose shoe he found at the doormat into the man's crotch. The man is sent to the floor, clutching his package and soon, the second officer is launching himself at Blue.
"Stop it!" All actions come to a halt when our eyes are averted to Mrs. Styles standing at the door. Her usual soft eyes are filled with rage and a hint of concern. "Marco, Franklin, you leave those poor kids alone." Her makeup is smudged due to the tears running down her cheek. The men oblige, backing away from us. It is not over yet, though, as Isabella makes her way towards her husband and I am shocked when she sends her foot into his chest.
"I'm filing for a divorce," she says before leaving.
Mark struggles to get up, but once he does, he sends his bloody saliva in my direction. It hits my face and I let out a cry. "Fucking slave," he mutters before collecting his men and leaving my house.
I am crying when Blue comes over to wrap his hands around me.
I am crying when he gets my mother on the phone.
I am crying when he gets his mother on the phone.
I am crying when both my mother and Joanna reach, flooding Blue with questions.
I am crying when my mother starts crying.
I am crying when my mother calls for a lawyer.
I am crying when my mother expresses her gratitude towards Blue.
I am crying when my mother wraps her sweet hands around me, assuring me that everything will be okay.
But it won't be okay. Because the man I am in love with is missing and I am never going to be socially accepted due to the pigment of my cells.
So I continue to cry, and cry and cry.
You should write another!!! I'd read it for sure.
7/24/15