A Run Away (A Louis Tomlinson fanfic)

This is a One Direction fan fiction.

Kim, age 19, runs away from her home in Doncaster, UK. She meets a young lad named Louis Tomlinson, who is from the band One Direction. She's not sure if she should stick with him and his band mates, or go her own separate ways. And... they might have something between them.

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1. Leaving Home

I look at myself in the mirror. My brown hair messy, my skin pail, and there's bags under my eyes.I'm a mess. My parents just got in a divorce. I'm living with my dad in a worn-down, pad paid for apartment. And, my loved dog, Chardy, just passed away. Last year, when I was in my last year of high school, I was bullied. It still pains me today just thinking about the pain. I know what I have to do. Leave.

I turn to my bed, which isn't a real bed, just a mattress with a thin, cold, sheet. I pull the bag off of it which contains some extra clothes, some snacks, and a hairbrush. It's the stuff I need for running away. I don't even know where I was going to go, though.

I look back at my mirror, which is the only piece of furniture in my room other than my makeshift bed. The lights flicker on and off above my head. I hear my dad outside my room, cussing and screaming at my mom through the phone in his British accent. I decide I have to talk to him one more time before I leave, even though he's let me down.

I walk out my bedroom door as my dad slams the phone on the table. "Where are you going with the bag?" he says, slumping down in the ripped up armchair we had. I hug him instead of answering, knowing this will be the last time we will ever talk, most likely. I step back, and he looks surprised. "Thank you," he smiles, showing his yellow teeth. I smile too, but inside I am in pain. "I'm going to the bell tower," I say. Because of my accent I say tower like towah. I walk out of the door, without even saying goodbye.

I run down the dirty stairs of the apartment building and into the city, where large, beautiful buildings and tall buses were. I keep running until I can't run anymore, and I'm in the center of Doncaster, surrounded by other Brits. "I'm not meant to be here," I say out loud, but nobody listens, nobody cares. Just as I thought it would be.

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