TAINTED | Zayn Malik

Chapter 70| It only goes up from here pt 1

warning: mature content lol, I'm so dirty.

"I want you think of a brief moment that lead you to think your life wasn't yours." I could hear the voice speaking out to me from all around. The comforting sounds of her words allowing me to feel a sense of security, even though all I wanted to do was stop this process altogether. But there was no way I could live my life without doing this, for once it seemed like the better option just so I could remain strong.

I tried to remember a time frame in my life that was happy and filled with unconditional love from my mother, but the only thing I could remember was her taking me to the hospital for take your child to work day. And that was the first time I was being shown around and she actually had interest in what I thought, but then for fun her co-worker was showing us biological blood testing. Especially since I was starting to study that in primary school, learning about genetics and what you features you got from your parents. I was always different from my siblings, all of them had eyes that were vibrant orbs filled with distinctive color.

A hasty swirl of colors mixing together giving them the right pigment between our parents eyes. Their hair was straight and full of luster, everyone had that except me.

My hair being full with textured curls and my eyes being a color of dark brown with cinnamon-like flakes making it appear more unique when I was looking in the sun. There was some days my eyes almost resembled honey, but then some days it was dull and lifeless. People used to make fun of me for being so different than the rest of my family, along with my skin being a tad darker. They used to call me stranger, because of how much we used to contrast against each other. My mom spoke all the time how it was a mutation, that I got my features from her and my grandfather. Somehow, we didn't have the prove since he died before any of us were born, and when my grandmother got remarried. But she would say that didn't stop my beauty from showing and her being happy that I resembled him.

My mom was half Mexican and half African, her father came over to the states and met my grandmother. A hazel- eyed white woman from the heart of Texas, and that's how my mother came along. But not being around her dad for long due to his death, she was rarely exposed to her own heritage. That was pretty much the guess on why she hated my hair curling up, because in the past it never crossed my mind truly. She loved my look until that day we decided to play with the blood work in the hospital.

After testing all of our blood on the samples, all I could remember was the incredulous looks between her and her co-worker. That day was the last time I could ever recall her being nice to me, shortly after that is when I felt like I lost my mother forever. If only I knew at the time is maybe, just maybe she realized that I was the forbidden fruit out of the bunch. The child she didn't know she had by another man that wasn't the guy she married. Unless she did know and just couldn't accept the facts, but somehow I figured in the back of her head she always knew I was different. Which is why she raised me that way.