Chapter 38

Saturday 9th July

Perrie POV

“So what do you wanna do today?” Zayn asks as we sit in the kitchen eating our breakfast, even though it’s midday already.

“You can see Ant and Danny today if you want. I was gonna spend the day with the girls,” I tell him. To be honest, I actually hadn’t seen Leigh and Jesy in about a week and the last time I saw Jade was the day that the house got broken into by Abigail.

“Ok that sounds good. Will you be back tonight?” Zayn asks while putting his dirty bowl into the dishwasher.

“Yep,” I say, doing the same as him.

“Do you need a lift anywhere?”

“No, I’ll be fine walking,” I say and Zayn turns to me with a suspicious look in his eye. Damn, I’d given it away.

“You’re not walking anywhere on your own. That’s dangerous. Let me call Paul,” he says, walking into the other room.

“No, don’t do that. I’ll get Jade to come and pick me up,” I suggest. I don’t know why I haven’t learnt to drive yet. Life would be a whole lot easier.

“If you insist,” Zayn says and walks upstairs to get dressed.

-

“I’ll see you later then,” Zayn says as he is by the door about to leave.

I stand on my tippy toes and peck his lips before saying, “See you later.”

He leaves the house but before I do anything I watch the car pull away.

Once his car is out of sight I whip out my phone. “Harry?” I say.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Yep. Come to Zayn’s though, not mine and Jade’s,” I tell him.

“Zayn’s not there is he?”

“No,” I say, “And have you got all the directions?”

“Yep. I’ll see you in 10,” he says and I quickly dart upstairs to get dressed and get a bit of make up on. I slip on some navy tracksuit bottoms and a grey hoody. I know I look dreadful but I don’t want anyone to notice me or Harry. I change my mine and put on some jeans because I’d feel like a tramp is I went out dressed like that.

I hear a knock at the door and I dart downstairs, putting my shoes on as I hop across the hallway. “Hi,” I say as I open the door.

“How are you?” Harry asks, pecking my cheek.

“I’m good thanks. Let’s go,” I say and I follow Harry out of the door and down the drive.

“You sure you wanna do this?” I ask as we are sitting in the car and Harry turns the engine on.

“Yep. Are you?” Harry asks me as we start driving.

“Yeah.”

“You haven’t told Zayn have you?” Harry asks me as he picks up the speed of the car.

“No. But I feel bad lying to him,” I admit, looking guiltily out at the road infront of us.

“Don’t feel bad. It’s better for him if he doesn’t know. He’ll go crazy if he finds out,” Harry says but that only makes me worry more. I should’ve told him, but then he would have stopped me.

As we finally pull up to our destination I get out of the car slowly. The building is disgusting. The paint is peeling of the walls and the floor is stained and dirty. We walk up to the desk in the doorway and Harry readjusts his beanie hat, making sure he is unidentifiable.

“Hi, we’re here to see Abigail Taylor,” Harry says and the receptionist slowly lifts her head up.

“Aren’t you-?” she asks, before being cut off by Harry.

“Harry Styles? No, but I get that a lot,” Harry says, acting really well.

“I was going to say that curly haired guy from The Wanted. I guess he does look a bit like Harry Styles though,” the receptionist says. I chuckle while Harry’s face turns a bright shade of red.

“So can we see her?” I ask.

“May I ask what relation you are to her,” the receptionist asks.

“Her cousins,” I say and the receptionist stands up and leads us over to one of the prison guards. The prison guard takes away our phones and Harry’s car keys. It is like airport security except everything gets taken. The beefy guard guides us through past all the prison cells. Everyone here is under the age of 18 and most of them recognize Harry but he keeps his head down.

“Here you are,” the guard says as he opens the gate for us to go into Abigail’s cell. Harry places a supportive hand on my back as we make our way into the cell.

Abigail turns around at the sound of the guard’s voice and when she sees me and Harry walk in she looks slightly taken aback.

“Oh my god,” she says and clasps her hand over her mouth as the guard shuts the gate behind us. “Why are you here?” she asks, confused but still in shock.

“We came to talk to you and see how you are,” Harry says as we pull out stools and sit down in front of Abigail. Despite what she has done in the past, she isn’t scary. We don’t fear her because we can see that she is just a young girl.

“Talk about what?” she asks, “It isn’t safe for you two to be here. They say I’m a psychopath.”

“Well we don’t think you are,” I tell her. “We just want to know why you did it.”

“I just get angry sometimes. I get crazy. I think it’s because of my mum and dad but sometimes I just can’t control myself. I go out of my mind. I picture this perfect life and sometimes I want it so bad that I do certain crazy things to get it. But I swear to god, this is the first time I’ve ever done anything serious,” she says. She speaks frantically and quickly but we follow what she is saying.

“So why me? Why did you send me death threats? Why did you try and track down me?” I ask.

“You have the perfect life I guess. I see you all over the magazines and you always look so happy. You’ve got a supportive family, best friends, a boyfriend, a big house. And you’re famous and talented and you get to go to loads of different countries and buy whatever clothes you want,” she says. By her reeling off all the things that I take for granted I realize how lucky I am to have all these things.

“There are difficulties in everyone’s lives you know. I know I’m lucky and it helps to have good people around you. But I get death threats and hate every single day. My personal life is public property and is splashed across the newspapers everyday,” I tell her. I know my problems aren’t serious but she needs to know that no ones life is perfect.

“You may get hate but you also get so much love and appreciation. My mum is dead and my dad hates me. There is absolutely no love for me in the world,” Abigail says.

“There’s love for everyone out there somewhere,” Harry says, “But by sending death threats and hurting people, you aren’t going to find it.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I know I deserve my punishment,” Abigail says and tilts her head down in shame.

“We’re not pressing charges,” I tell her and she immediately lifts her head up. There is a grateful yet confused look on her face.

“What?” she asks.

“We don’t want you to be in jail. It’s horrible in here. We want you to go to a rehabilitation clinic. You obviously have some issues you need to sort out,” Harry tells her and she nods in agreement.

“I’m so so grateful but I can’t afford to go to rehab,” Abigail says, “I’m only 14 and I have no money.”

“We’re paying,” Harry says, “There is one in LA and it is really nice and probably the best your going to find.”

“LA? As in America?” Abigail asks.

“Mhmm,” Harry says and gets out of his chair.

“Does that sound okay?” I ask.

“Yes,” she mumbles and I stand up as well.

We turn to leave and Abigail asks, “You should hate me. Why are you doing this?”

“We care. You’re 14 years old and shouldn’t be anywhere like this,” Harry says and we leave the cell.

“I feel better now,” I say as we walk out of the prison building.

“Zayn can not find out,” Harry says and speeds up his walking pace.

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