The Crossed Pathways to Home

Lucy's world is fading. Sad, alone, her grandmother dying, the rest of the world hating her, what's to look forward to?
But when a mysterious blonde haired boy turns up...

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1. Chapter 1

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I woke up screaming, but stopped in fear of waking up Aunt Peggy. I breathed heavily, and slammed my head down in my pillow. I wiped the cold sweat off my forehead.
"Absolutely ridiculous" I sighed. I glared at the ring on my bedside drawer. "Stupid thing" I murmured. The eye on the ring always creeped me out. Its pupil was a diamond shape. It was a funny mix of blues and yellows. It was like it stared into your soul. It was always at the beginning of my nightmares. It seemed to zoom in and the bad dream began. I bet the sleeping monsters in my head would love it.
I picked it up, shuddered and put it down again.
"Crying out loud, why give me this thing? The only damn thing." I shook my head. I couldn't get rid of the stupid thing as it was the only possession of my mothers I own.
I tossed and turned instead for the rest of the night.

"Lucy!" I heard my aunt shriek. I groaned.
Another day, filled with fun.
"Get down, now!" I pulled myself out of bed and into the kitchen where my large aunt was at. She looked at me with some form of disgust, but I guess it takes one to know one. My aunt was very large, with an ugly face with make-up sloppily put on. She bulged within her clothes and her hair had gone horribly wrong when she tried to dye it in an ombre style.
"Would you please prepare yourself before you come down?" she asked in exasperation.
"Why?" I asked in confusion. She snorted,
"You're just as much of a slob as your mother!" I bit my tongue. I gave up standing up for my mum a long time ago. I knew I was just wasting my breath. So instead, I ate my breakfast and put on the most boring, grey uniform ever invented. I shook my head at the lack of imagination in the design and pulled on my red hoodie. Apparently, my mum saw it, liked it and bought it for me for when I was older. It made for a pop of colour and I wear it as often as I can.
I grabbed my hand and headed towards the door.
"I'm going to see Grandma after school!" I called. Poppy came up behind me. She frowned and fingered my hoodie.
"Must you wear that abomination?" she snottily asked. I sighed.
"I'll be back later, O.K?" She frowned at me.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you're up to something."
"I'm not using my dying Grandma as an excuse!" I snapped. Aunt Peggys' piggy eyes squinted even more with anger. "If you don't mind, I'm going to be late." I shook my arm away and slammed the door behind me. I stomped my way to school, disgusted my aunt could think that of me. She never even goes to see Grandma, the miserable cow! Apparently, having Motor Neurons is Grandma's doing. The reason I have to live with her is apparently Grandma's fault too, so she has refused to visit her for the past three years. This is all forgetting social services forced me to leave Grandma's before she was diagnosed with Motor Neurons. They felt she was getting too old and frail.
What an ass.

I stalked into school and sat on the floor outside my roll-call class, and started to read my book.
"Aw, it's the orphan wearing mummy's hoodie!" came the scariest, nastiest voice I knew.
"How heartwarming! How pathetic!" Olivia sneered. I wanted the floor to swallow me. I tried to compact myself even further. She kicked my foot.
"C'mon! Cat got your tongue?" They all laughed. It all seemed so petty and meaningless. But being on the receiving end...It just seemed like endless torture. The always seemed to know what would hurt, and then because you have physced yourself and anticipate the pain, they were hurting you, even when they weren't there.
She opened her mouth to make another snide comment, but along came Ms. Faughnan. Now butter wouldn't melt, and of course, Olivia and her gang had every teacher fooled. They all thought she was mannerly, smart and sweet.
I hate school.
I was finishing up in my last class, Home Economics. I was placing the fairy-cakes we had made into a plastic bag for Grandma. She had had Motor Neurons for nearly nine months now, and won't be able to eat properly for much longer.
Then Olivia and two of her gang snatched one each.
"Hey!" I angrily protested. "They're for my Grandma!"
"Oh" Olivia mocked, while the other two robot Barbies sniggered. "So sweet!" Her eyes flickered to the side to see if Mr. Brown was there, which he wasn't. Assured she was safe, she tilted her head, and went threateningly close to my face.
"And what are you going to do about it?" I felt me eye twitching with rage.
"Thought so" she cruelly smiled. "Let's go girls!"
And I seethed, as one by one, they each dropped their stolen fairy-cake into the bin and they walked out.

 

 

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