CHARLOTTE'S POV
TUESDAY
ONE WEEK LATER...

The window sill was cold to sit next to but to slowly watch the frost trickle up the glass as the time rolled by was magical. Midnight was approaching soon and the only thing reminding me was my increased tiredness and cell phone that was constantly blinking. A mug of hot chocolate rested on my lap while I browsed the outside world. The neighborhood was so much different. The people were nice, and people picked up the dog poop. Life was great.

Although, I did get a call on this bittersweet Christmas Eve, it was Liz. She was furious that I'd left without telling her and it took a while to explain to her that she wouldn't have noticed had I not taken my name from the bills she doesn't pay. I hung up.

She didn't call back.

Celia went out to a meeting since the only reason she was here was because her job entitled her to move. The only reason why I was here, actually. The house smelled of gingerbread and latex gloves. She's always been great at both cooking and making a mess.

I thought of many things while watching cars and people drive and walk by outside. I thought of Grandpa and how he must be enjoying his sports car and models in heaven. I thought of Frankie and Nonna spending another Christmas without me. I thought of Harry and his slide remarks and dimples, and even the same book he read everyday.

I found myself thinking of Harry a lot. I'd concluded that I missed his crude, British humor and I somehow was very excited to be back at work. That's one thing I never thought I'd think about. I thought about why Ms. Hannigan was so happy and why Samuel never called back even though I said I'd call him. Boy, I thought about a lot of things.

A burn landed on my tongue when I brought the mug to my lips and sipped, but I didn't mind. The pain soon went away and I continued looking out the window. A man, vaguely tall was on the corner of the street. His vehicle was smoking and looked as if it'd blow up. Being the sucker that I am, I found my coat under a pile of unpacked boxes and slipped on some boots. After grabbing my phone, I walked outside.

I tried not to run since ice paved the roads but he looked helpless and I wanted to be the first to help him. Upon reaching him, I found he wasn't very tall but still was taller than I. He had a beard and his hair was standing up, missing a hat in the freezing weather. He must be new. "Ah, hello," his British accent rang in my ears. Okay, maybe not all that new. "Terrible roads," he nodded towards his car that was deep in a pile of snow. "Thing basically died," my heart oddly didn't skip a beat when he used the word.

Died. Died, died, dead, dead, death, death. Doesn't really do anything anymore. "Well, I could help you. Pull it out," he smiled at my unintentional sexual innuendo, "no- I meant-."

He cut me off, "I know what you meant." His smile was bright in the moonlight. "It's alright. Possibly a tow truck would be nice though." I nodded and called the nearest towing service. We sat on the hood of his car in the silence until he spoke up, "Definitely not the best Christmas Eve."

"Sounds like the best to me. Crashing your car into snow, phone dying, and sitting awkwardly with a stranger. Sounds good enough to me." He laughed and stuffed his hands in his pockets, "Charlotte, by the way."

"Louis," he started to take his hand from the pocket but put it back in, "I would shake your hand but it's... kinda cold out." A smile spread on my overly pink lips. "Doesn't look like the truck will be here any time soon, might as well get inside," I thought he was referring to my home but he was referring to the car. "Ladies first." Louis opened the driver's door and watched me crawl over to the passenger's seat since the door was snowed in. He climbed into the driver's side afterwards and closed the door.

The key stuck into the ignition and lights flickered in the car, hopefully the heat still works. It did. We crash landed our hands on the mini vents and watched our breath disappear in the warmth of the car. "So, what do you do?" I asked.

"I'm a bartender. S'not bad, honestly. You?"

After hesitating, I announced, "I work at a mental asylum."

I'd expect him to ask a million question like everyone else did, but he didn't. He just looked over at me and smiled, "Interesting." He allowed. Flashing yellow lights came behind us and we found it was the tow truck. Louis took the keys from the ignition and helped me climb out. We made small talk while the two men loaded his car. "All I wanted to do was visit to see my friend. Now this happens?"

"Where does your friend live?" I asked. He looked down for a moment and kicked a bit of snow on the ground. A sigh came from his lungs before speaking up, "He's in an asylum."

"Navarro?"

Louis looked up and his eyebrows furrowed, "Yes, how did you- never mind. Do you know a Harry Styles?" That's basically all I can remember from Christmas Eve 2013.

---

My pajamas were on since I'd gone outside in them but my coat was removed and thrown across the computer desk chair. I smelled of how Louis smelled last night. At first, I didn't even think last night existed.

My phone was on the window sill along with my hot--now cold--chocolate. It seemed as though I'd dreamed everything. Even though I knew that extreme temperature wasn't imaginary. A text that was apparently eleven hours old kept blinking on my phone until I read it:

тнαɴĸѕ ғor нelpιɴɢ мe w/ мy cαr proвѕ αɴd ғor ɢιvιɴɢ мe yoυr ɴυмвer.. reαlly ɴιce oғ yoυ тo ѕтιcĸ αroυɴd ιɴ тнe cold, lυɴcн ѕoмeтιмe?

After reading the message, I texted back an agreement and got up. It was Christmas. Possibly the worst Christmas I've had in my twenty years of life. Next to the few years I was coping with my parents death, of course.

When I appeared out of my bedroom, there were loud whispers and shushing. I sneaked behind the couch everyone was sitting on and saw that Frankie, Nonna, and Celia were waiting on the couch. Probably for me to wake up, "Should I just wake her up?" asked Frankie. Everyone shushed him.

"Having fun there?" I spoke up, causing Celia and Frankie to jump. Nonna sat there. She was never one to get scared easily. At least not as easy as these two. We laughed a little and opened Christmas presents. The only ones I payed attention to were the ones I received. A phone case from Frankie along with perfumes and pretty things, a necklace from Nonna, and a bedazzled house key from Celia. Christmases get worse and worse as you get older, I've realized.

Christmas Day with the family didn't last long. Nonna became tired and seemed weak. Frankie said she really didn't want to come, I could understand. It would be wrong to say that she hates me since she loved me enough to take me in after her daughter and son-in-law died. But there are so many wrong things in the world that saying she hates me seems even more right.

It was true. My Nonna hates even the mention of my first name. Of course, she's probably like how I was the first few years after their death. Hating the person who you feel caused it. Honestly, we should all hate my father, Nonna did. She hated even the idea of my father around her house let alone her daughter.

My mother was the rebellious one. Belly button ring and all. Nonna was too hard, that's what Grandpa told me. That's what everyone told me. Nonna was always wanting to know where Mom was and it was smothering her, causing her to fall into the arms of the man Nonna hated the most. Maybe that's another reason why she hated me. I'm the spawn of the two people she never wanted together. I'm a mistake.

Technically, I am. My mother didn't plan on getting pregnant at twenty, it just happened. She didn't plan on her husband becoming an alcoholic, it just happened. And she sure as hell didn't plan on dying, even though she could have prevented that day.

She could have left ages ago but chose not to. Everyone believes she literally couldn't but I knew the hidden truth. I knew my mother better at age nine than anyone had at her age of twenty nine. The way she looked into my eyes or into Frankie's. She wanted revenge. I loved my mother, I did. But a selfish bitch she was. Listen, I know it's wrong to call your mother a bitch but that she was.

All she was trying to do was prove a point to Nonna. Even after dying, she still didn't prove that point. Maybe I was supposed to be that point. Anyway, Mom never really loved Frankie like she loved me. Frankie was always the side child. I guess because he was a previous fuck up on my dad's part. None of them cared for Frankie except for Nonna, Grandpa, and I. We were all he had. Realizing this, they were all I had too.

Notes

Part two might HOPEFULLY be up tomorrow. School, two instagrams, tumblr, writing, homework, social life, etc. that shit is harddddddd.. Tell me what you like and didn't like and let me know what I can fix. The ratings and everything is going up so I'm doing something right. I'm really glad you guys are so patience and I appreciate you being able to cope with my insane life. XOXOH is like my new favorite writer, commenter, and, like, online friend. She's the best. Thanks guysssssss