Promises

"Louis?" I hollered. No answer. "Louis?" Still no answer. "Louis?"

When he didn't answer, I got my phone off the nightstand and dialed his number. It went straight to voicemail. I'll try Harry. It went straight to voicemail too. I guess I'll try Violet.

"Hey baby sister. What's up?" She greeted. I sighed. "I just got up and Louis isn't here and he isn't answering his phone. Neither is Harry," I replied.

She chuckled. "Are you stuck in bed again?"

I huffed. "No. I just didn't know where he was. And I wasn't stuck in bed! I just couldn't push myself up!"

"You were stuck," she laughed. "They went to the studio early today. The producer needed some last minute stuff done before they finish it all."

Well I'm glad Louis told me. You know, not like I'm pregnant and might need help or anything. "Oh okay. Do you want to go shopping today? I need new clothes." I had resorted to stealing the lads' clothing. It was awful. I felt awful.

"Yeah, for sure! I'll be over in an hour." We bid each other goodbye and I placed my phone back on the nightstand. Slowly but surely I got up and made my way to the bathroom where I brushed my teeth. Once everything was done in there, I waddled to my closet and got dressed. Now to the kitchen.

As soon as I opened the fridge I saw a note taped to the milk. Had last minute stuff to do on the album. Be back later. Love you. -Louis He knew I would go straight for the milk and cereal. That's what I had been craving for the last few months. It was really weird though; marshmallow cereal, fruit loops, and cocoa puffs all mixed together. Deliciousness in my mouth. No one else seemed to think so.

"Yo bitch! Let's go! Get yo ass up!" Violet yelled. With a roll of my eyes I dumped the rest of my milk down the sink and picked up my purse and keys. "Quit trying to act all gangster," I stated. "It doesn't work."

She scrunched her nose up and stuck her tongue out at me. "Fun sucker." I just chuckled. "That's what parents are supposed to be; fun suckers."

"Well Louis isn't a fun sucker," she shot back. "He's fucking awesome! He's gonna be an awesome dad!"

I just shook my head. She took the keys and hopped in the driver seat while I got in the passenger seat. "I'll be around more then he will. Someone has to discipline her, and if that has to be me, then so be it," I spoke.


"Vi," I called. This wasn't how I wanted to feel. I wanted to go back home before I broke down in tears. But alas, my hormones had other ideas and I broke down as soon as she stepped in the dressing room. "Woah. Woah. Calm down. What's wrong?" She spoke calmly, gripping my face making me look at her.

I shrugged, tears rolling down my face. "I don't know," I cried.

"Hun, something has to be wrong," she spoke softly. Sniffing, I answered. "I feel fat and nasty and none of my clothes fit which makes me feel even more like a whale and I'm always hungry and I never stop eating and Louis is always gone and I...I just want this baby out of me!"

What she did next made me start crying harder. She laughed at me. "You aren't fat, you just have a baby in you. And Louis will be there, he's just working. Family comes before work, Scar."

I shook my head and glared at her through my tears. "I am too fat. And he has to go on tour. I'm not stupid, Violet. His work comes before his family. I should have known better then to have a kid with a famous person."

She gaped at me. "Hold up; what the fuck, Scarlett? Why would you say that?"

"Because it's the truth!" I all but shouted. "You don't get it. You never will."

I grabbed the clothes I was getting, slipped on my big cat eye sunglasses and left the dressing room. I paid for my clothes and thanked the cashier. "Have a nice day, miss," she called. I forced a smile. "You too."

Well this shopping trip went to shit real quick.


Sometimes words come out of my mouth before I think them through. Like word vomit. Or diarrhea of the mouth. It was something I hated about myself. Violet hasn't spoken to me since our shopping mishap earlier. Louis still want home. Nobody was home. So I went somewhere that I felt at peace; the bakery.

My music was blaring as usual. The doors were all locked and the closed sign was up. If that wasn't a sign that I didn't want to be bothered, I don't know what was. My normal upbeat music was thrown out and being replaced with heavy music; Motionless In White, Slipknot, Pierce The Veil, Bring Me The Horizon, and more.

I've got a secret.
It's on the tip of my tongue, it's on the back of my lungs.
And I'm gonna keep it.
I know something you don't know.

It sits in silence, eats away at me.
It feeds like cancer.
This guilt could fill a fucking sea.
Pulling teeth, wolves at my door.
Now falling and failing is all I know.

This disease is getting worse.
I counted my blessings, now I'll count this curse.
The only thing I really know: I can't sleep at night.
I'm buried and breathing in regret.
Yeah!
he only thing I really know: I can't sleep at night.
I'm buried and breathing in regret.

I've got a secret.
It's on the tip of my tongue, it's on the back of my lungs.
And I'm gonna keep it.
I know something you don't know—

"Since when did you become this heavy metal, head banging, rocker chick?" Startled, I dropped the spoon I was stirring the homemade caramel with and my hand slipped down to land on the scalding hot skillet. I immediately pulled my hand away and gasped. "Shit. Bullocks. Jesus. Fuck. Bloody hell."

Sorry Adelaide. Mummy's just having a bad day. Bare with me.

Harry rushed to my aid. "Jesus, Scar," he exclaimed. He carefully grabbed my arm and rushed me over to the sink. The cold water was turned on and my hand was put under it. The pain only barely went away.

"Ow. Ow. Ow," I grimaced. I tried pulling my hand away but he held it in place. "Don't move, Scar. Do you have a first aid kit?" I nodded, pointing over the sink.

"It's supposed to be lukewarm water, not cold water," I murmured. As soon as I said that, the kitchen door swung open and in walked my fiance/baby daddy. His eyes zeroed in on Harry grabbing the first aid kit and he went into panic mode. "What happened? Letty, are you okay? Harry, what happened?" He rushed out.

"I scared her and she burnt her hand on the hot skillet," Harry replied. Louis pushed him aside and took over. He went to turn the water to cold but Harry and I stopped him. "It's supposed to be lukewarm, not cold," we spoke in unison. He turned the water off and patted my hand and arm dry with a towel.

"I need Neosporin or something," Louis instructed. Harry handed it to him and leaned against the counter, watching us. Louis squeezed some out on my burn. It went about halfway up the side of my hand and three inches down past my wrist. As he rubbed the Neosporin on it, it started burning. "Ow," I hissed.

"Stop moving." I narrowed my eyes at him, but listened nonetheless. As soon as he was done rubbing it on there he asked for the gauze and medical tape. Jesus. I'm gonna look like a fucking zombie or something. Harry tried to help him by holding the gauze on my arm while he tried to tear the tape, but Louis smacked his hand away. "Back off, Harry," he spat.

I glared up at him. "He's just trying to help," I snapped. "You can't always do everything. You won't be able to help everyone."

He finished wrapping up my hand then handed everything to Harry. His piercing blue eyes flew up to meet mine. "What's that supposed to mean?" He questioned.

"Nothing. Just...nothing," I moved away from them and went back to the stove, turning it off. I dumped the caramel in the bin and and put the spoon and skillet in the dishwasher, then started it. The cupcakes were already getting mushy and nasty, so I threw them in the bin too. I'll admit, they weren't my best. But that's because of how stressed I was.

"Scar, why are you throwing everything away?" Harry asked. "You never throw away what you bake."

I shrugged, starting to clean up. Now it was Louis's turn to say something. "Letty, will you just stop and talk to us." When I didn't answer, he took matters into his own hands and stopped me from cleaning.

"Let go of me," I mumbled. He shook his head with a sigh and said, "Not until you tell us what's going on with you."

I don't know what happened or why it happened when it did, but I just blew up. My top blew. My meter went through the roof. Whatever you want to call it.

"Will you please just leave me alone?!" I shouted, pushing him away. Him and Harry both jumped at my outburst. "I came here to be alone! I want to be alone!"

"Letty —" I cut him off. "Why'd you come here? Why didn't you just stay at the studio? That's where you always seem to be these days." Tears gathered in my eyes and my voice trembled and cracked all over the place. Why hormones, why?

"I'm sore and wore out and I feel fat and nasty and I just want this god damn baby out of me," I cried. "I don't want to be pregnant anymore! I want to wear my own clothes! I want your child out of me! She's causing me pain and stress and swollen feet! I don't like doing all this on my own! I don't like being on my own! I want it to be over, Louis." By the time I finished, I was whispering. My voice was all scratchy from yelling and my face was damp from tears. This sucked balls.

They both looked at me with wide eyes. Their faces said it all. They didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to say; I didn't have anything else to say to be honest. I wasn't meaning to blurt akk that out. None of it was supposed to be spoken out loud, only in my head. This was a horrible day so far. It could go down in the books. So far, being twenty sucked.

"God," I whispered. "I'm so fucked up." And I broke down in more tears, this time sliding to the cold tile floor, leaning against the cabinet doors. My life was a big jumbled mess of emotions and hormones and drama.

"Scar," Harry mumbled, sliding to sit beside me. He grabbed my hand but I shrugged away. Louis sat on my other side and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into him. I tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. "You need to calm down, Scarlett," he murmured into my ear.

"I-I can't!" I cried softly. "I fucking hate this! I hate it!"

"I know it seems hard sometimes but remember one thing. Through every dark night, there's a bright day after that. So no matter how hard it gets, stick your chest out, keep ya head up.... and handle it.” ― Tupac Shakur