Who needs Luck? (1D FanFiction) Sequel to Your Good Luck Charm

Lucy's Story: Chapter Eighteen

You guys are the best, seriously, the amout of support I got was amazing. I was looking throught the comments and I started to cry because of all the amazing support. So thank you.

X Gwen

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Lucy’s story:

My feet pounded on the pavement, my breathe coming out in little gasps. I was nearly there, I had been running for almost an hour now, like my life depended on it. The rain began to pour and my already soaked clothes become see-through. Sugar Honey Ice Tea, I’m glad it was dark, otherwise everyone would be staring.

I hated attention, Always Have. One time when Harry and I where eight we had to put on a performance with our class for the rest of the school, I hated it, But Harry loved it, Soaking up the attention. He always loved it, So I guess it’s no surprise that he would end up in the spot light with-

Stop it.

No.

Don’t- Don’t think his name.

Niall.

No!

No. No.

He cheated, Remember? Don’t turn into one of those girls who let their boyfriends get away with anything. I trusted him, And he let me down.

Drip.

Drop.

I wipe the tear away.

Drip.

Drip.

Drop.

Drop.

Stop it! You’re nearly there. You can keep going, just that extra bit further? Finally I ran into the street, The rain pouring down must have made my eyes all blurry, I can’t think of anything else that would. I run up the driveway, Cursing myself for wearing such formal shoes.

I take the key out under the gnome and turn the lock, It slides in easily like a knife in butter. I close the door quietly, I don’t want anyone to know I’m here. I turn on the hall light and slowly make my way upstairs, pausing only to look at some of the old photographs on the wall. There’s a picture of Hannah and I, grinning like crazy and our hair sticking up, because of the electricity on the trampoline. There’s another picture of my parents grinning, at their wedding day. And last but defiantly not least there’s an old black and white picture of my grandfather, looking proud in his World War Two uniform.

I smile sadly and press a kiss to the picture. “Night’ Grandpa.” I step softly up the last couple of steps. I’m about to tiptoe past the old-fashioned room when I realise her light is still on.

“Grandma?” I say loudly, her hearing is a bit off these days.

“Is that you, Lucinda?” She says in her gravely voice.

I nod, stepping into the room.

“Speak up, dearie, I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, Grandma.”

“Have you come to stay..? Are you’re parent’s… away…?”

“No, I just… wanted to stay for a while.”

“That’s wonderful, dearie, It gets a bit lonely hear… all by myself. It’s nice to have you here.”

I walked closer to her bed. “It’s nice to be here.”