Josh Hutcherson FanFic

My sister wanted me to write a fanfic of her and josh..this is the outcome.
I dont't like Josh Hutcherson (sorry) but my sister wants me to write this for her...

Amy meets a guy when she moves into her apartment, they don't expect to be friends with each other, but who knows what could happen ;)

I don't own any copywrited stuff (c)

Thankyou lovelys if you read it :D


1. 1


      “Ahh! Miss Wiley, I’ve been expecting you.” A man who looked in his mid-30’s said, smiling. He was sat in a brown, leather, spinny chair behind a 4 metre long, mahogany, table. 

     “Uh, hi. I’ve been told I’m allowed to-” I started, stuttering my words.

     “I know why you’re here, it’s my job. You’re here to be moved into your new house, 21, isn’t it?” He said, looking down at his table, obviously reading it off of a piece of paper which withheld all of my details that he’d need to know.

     “Yes, um, yes that’s right…”

     “Ah, well if you’d let me show you to your new house then” He said, gesturing towards the door whilst he slowly, but surely got up out of his chair. At one point, he looked like he was about to fall, so I rushed forward, but as he helped himself back up, I started to back away towards the door.

     “You can go on ahead; I’ll be right with you.” He joked.

   I turned around and asked,

     “Sir, a-are you alright?” He instantaneously, as if it was planned, fell onto the hard, tiled floor.

   I started to dial 999, my hands shaking. I’d never witnessed anyone having an accident before.

     “Which emergency service do you require?” The operator spoke, almost metallic like.

     “Urm…the- the ambulance, please.”     

   I heard a click, obviously the operator redirecting me to another number, to talk to the hospital department.

     “Whats your name?” A man spoke, this time he sounded more human.

     “Uh, it’s Amy. Amy Wiley.”

     “Miss, could you explain what has happened?”

     “Of course, um…a man, in an estate agents, he was about to show me where my new house is, but he fell down. I think, he might be unconscious.”

     “Ma’am, where are you?” This was when I realised I didn’t have a clue where I was.

     “I- I don’t know.”

     “Ma’am, you’re going to have to try to find out, we can’t help you if we don’t know where you are.”

     “I’m in an estate agents…I don’t know where it is though.” I felt completely and utterly useless, so I scrimmaged around on his desk, trying to find clues as to where I was.

     “Great. Where is that estate agents?”

     “I think-” I found a leaflet, advertising a place that looked just like this building which read,

     ‘Houses for sale! Brighton! Come quick!’

     “I think I might be in Brighton.”

     “Certainly. We’ll be right with you, Amy.” He hung up. The adrenaline was pulsating through my body, what if I’d just made a hoax, there could be nothing wrong with him…I bet he’ll stand up  in a few seconds, no injuries, and be ready to show me to my house. What if he didn’t though? I might never find my house, as far as I know, he’s the only one that knows where it is. Sure, the neighbours might, but what if they’re not friendly? What if I hate it? So many questions, no time to answer them.

   10 minutes later, I heard sirens outside of the building. They stopped directly outside the front door. 3 men and 1 woman came barging in through the door, carrying a stretcher. They scanned the room, and then the woman asked me,

     “Are you, Amy Wiley?”

     “Yes, I am.” I replied. Before she had the chance to ask where the body lay, I pointed to the desk. She nodded and gestured to the men to follow her. The two which carried the stretcher went second; giving the other two enough space to work in.

   I walked around to the opposite end of the table to see what they were doing.

   They had rolled him into what I remember from school as the ‘recovery position’, and the woman was checking his pulse. She was saying random letters and numbers to a man who was holding a clipboard and pen, who wrote them down. Clearly, he understood everything she was telling him.

   A few minutes later, the 2 men who were originally holding the stretcher, opened it up so that it had 4 legs and 4 adjoining wheels, and lifted the man up and onto it. One of the two men pushed it whilst the other kept the doors open for him. They pushed him up into the ambulance while the woman asked me if I wanted to go.

   I shook my head. I wasn’t of any significance to the man, so I would just be getting in their way. It would be best for everyone if I stayed here.

   The ambulance pulled out of the estate agents driveway and back onto the road, turning left, towards the hospital.

   A guy, who looked at least 22, entered the building. He was wearing a red tank top and sandals, and greying, slashed jeans. His hair was blonde, obviously dyed as he had brown roots starting to come through; he wore it slightly quiffed in the middle, and the rest fell across his forehead. His facial structure was memorisable, recognisable. His jaw, the way his eyes shone in the sunlight, his nose which was neither too stubby nor too long and pointy.

   I hadn’t realised I was staring, mesmerised but his complexion, until he spoke. Even his voice was perfect.

     “Uh, Hi. Do you work here?”

     “Hey, and no. No, I don’t. The estate agent’s just gone to hospital.” I was surprised with myself, at how confident my voice sounded.

     “Oh right. Isn’t that supposed to be frowned upon here?” I must’ve had a confused expression on my face, because he carried on with, “You know, leaving work during hours of which he should be working, but going off to visit someone in hospital instead?”

     “Oh, he’s actually gone because he fell down. He was about to show me where I would be living, but now I’m kinda stuck here until someone gets back to help me, I guess.”

     “Ah right. Well, maybe I can help. My mates been living in this estate for quite some time now, and I visit him regularly; I pretty much know it like the back of my hand now. He lives in a highrise building, a block of flats, so when I visit him, I can see the whole estate from his bedroom window.”

     “It’s number 21…”

     “No way! That’s opposite from my mates apartment! What a coincidence, I can take you there if you like…” I didn’t even know if I could trust this guy yet, seeing as we’d only just met. Who was I to know he wasn’t just trying to get me to go along with him to an alley or his house, to kidnap me or something. He might do this every day, or every so often. Tempt people who were lost in a new village to go with him so he could make their families pay ransom. Well, that was something my family couldn’t afford to do. But what if he was being sincere? Maybe his friend truly did live across the hall…

     “Alright…” He smiled, obviously happy that I was willing to go along with him, adding more suspicion to this guy.

   He led me outside, and walked forward. Looking out at the vastness of this estate, it seemed like it would turn out to be a circular estate. I wasn’t wrong. We walked forward for about 10 metres, until we arrived at a front door.

   It was a pale white building, built from bricks and stones. The door was painted baby blue, but it was starting to peel off. Ivy grew up to sides of the building, as horrible as ivy is, it made the building look beautiful, much like the guy I was stood with. 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...