The next morning when my eyes popped open, the blonde fast asleep to my right, I was fully prepared to leave. I was ready to get my bag, drape my blanket over my shoulder and leave her. I had gotten what I needed with the girl, a place to sleep, but something inside me twisted when I thought of how scared the girl seemed.
I didn’t need to pry into her life, asking her countless questions and making her feel uncomfortable, to know she was the type of girl who had left home because of a misconception. She mumbled in her sleep a few things, and although I couldn’t make them out, they didn’t seem like words of hate.
You could say this was a good reason to leave her, because she was just a silly girl who had left home impulsively, but it was the reason I wanted to help her. I wasn’t going to tell her she needed to go home, if I did it that way she’d never feel like I’d done the right thing, always wondering whether or not she should run out again.
I wasn’t going to trick her into going home either, showing her the terrible parts of being on your own, on the run constantly. I was simply going to take her under my wing and show her the ropes, making sure she wasn’t going to starve or get taken off the streets.
“Forest,” I heard a tight voice mutter, not in question, just simply an attempt to take me from my thoughts.
“Yes Lottie?” I asked, smiling to her as she rubbed her shockingly light eyes. She didn’t say anything. She just kept her lips in a thing line and looked up at the alley around her.
“What do you … do you do out here?” she asked, and I laughed a bit, her novice colors shining. “I mean what do happens when living on the streets, do you just beg all day?” she asked and I shook my head with a real, full laugh.
It’s funny what a few movies and a handful of members of the community can do to your reputation. Sure, I might have to break out the old tin can every once in a while and put on a pitiful face, one full of despair and emptiness; that’s not very common though, they are plenty of ways to earn a few pounds at the end of the day.
“Of course not,” I replied, “that’s only what the dumb people do.” She crinkled her eyes in confusion and held her jacket closer to her skin. “Can you sing?” I asked and she shook her head no.
“Not exactly, my brother got that gene,” she replied, a slightly amused, but also in a frozen, her eyes glazed over for a second in thought. “But why would that matter?” she asked and I ran a hand through my brown hair.
“Well, there’s this music store, in the nicer part of East London,” I started; watching as Lottie leaned in slightly, nodding her head. “It’s not an old record store, they have recent albums,” I continued, “and sometimes when I need some money I’ll sing in there.”
“And the owner lets you do it?” she asked with a laugh.
“Everyone does it,” I explained, and that was true, it was like a small talent show that never ended, and got you some income.
“Do you do anything for fun?” she asked and I smiled at how timid and shy she came off as.
“Well there’s plenty of things to do for fun, we’re in one the biggest tourist hubs in the world,” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. It didn’t have the right effect since we were in an alley though; alleyways aren’t the biggest crowd pleasers.
“Don’t you have to pay for those things though?” she asked and I shook my head, pushing myself off the ground and outstretching my hand. For a second I was unsure of whether she was going to take my hand, but then with a gulp she latched on, letting me pull her up.
“Let me show you,” I said with a small smile, “and believe me, you won’t be disappointed.”
…
“Where are we going?” Lottie asked as I pulled on her arm.
“Have you ever been in London?” I asked, pausing for a second to look at her. She shook her head and I laughed as I replied. “Well,” I said, “in that case we have a lot of catching up to do.”
“You know Forest?” she started as we started walking again. “I wasn’t thinking well when I left home, I thought someone would take me in when I got on the streets, and I wouldn’t end up on a True Crime show,” she admitted, “but, everything did work out, thanks to you.”
I nodded weakly in reply, and could feel my grip on her loosen. I’d convinced myself I wouldn’t be bias in whether or not I’d make her like the streets, but the reality was overwhelming, and it was hard for me. I could easily show her a few muggers and have her running for her parents, but it didn’t seem right; I didn’t know her family situation.
“To answer your earlier question,” I blurted, bringing back a light lilt to my voice, and changing the subject, “we’re going to that music store I was talking about.” She smiled and nodded, but then as she was walking it was as if she was reminded of a death; her face paled and her head ducked down, her eyes beating down on the concrete.
“Lottie,” I muttered, knitting my eyebrows as I felt her hands get clammy in a matter of seconds.
“I’m fine,” she assured, but her physical appearance begged to differ. “I just …” she muttered and I slowed down my pace, eager to hear her words, whether they be about her family or something odd and quirky. “You said they had modern music at the store right?” she asked and I nodded, but I could hear her straining to continue her questioning.
“But I mainly listen to the older stuff,” I clarified, “the classics; I’m a Beatles girl.” Lottie laughed and raised her head from the ground slightly.
“And I could’ve guessed see that,” she replied, do you like any recent songs thought … just out of curiosity.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” I replied and she gave out a weak laugh, waiting for my answer. Lottie’s urge to know whom I liked in a specific era of music was odd, and confusing, but so was the reason for life, so I wasn’t going to second question her. “It would have to be this one group of people though, I’m not actually sure what they’re names are, and honestly, I’m not quite sure of the band name,” I replied with a laugh, “there’s only so much you can learn from the back of a torn up CD case.” Lottie nodded, and I thought if I answered her question she’d swing back into her normal self, or at least her equivalent of normal on the streets.
“Do you know a song at least?” she asked and I nodded.
“Something about chasing a sun,” I replied and I swear I, along with half the population of Great Britain, could hear her sigh in relief. “I’m just joking with you, I like that song about a girl not knowing she’s beautiful,” I joked, but it was the wrong joke, Lottie froze and brought an eye up to me.
“I’m just joking, that song should be on the streets, not me,” I admitted, but Lottie was still uneasy, “I think the band I like is called The Wanted or something like that.”
“They’re The Wanted,” she replied with a smile, “and I agree, they’re a great band.”
“What’s that other band called though?” I asked, “the one with the song I said I hated?”
“That’s One Direction,” she said, her teeth gritted, “they’re ok, but they ruin your life.” I laughed and gave her a look. Bands you don’t know can’t ruin your life. Sure a song of theirs can get itself lodged into your brain so it’s on a constant loop, and some could call that a life ruining aspect, but that’s nothing close to the young girls glass shattering expression.
A/N- Hmm, why’d you think Lottie ran away?? Oh and this isn’t officially started yet, but I wanted to update because I’ve gotten great feedback so far :)
So I’d love to hear what you think!
<3
Luce
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Run Forest Run (A Zayn Malik Fan Fiction)
FanfictionRun, Forest, Run, because your time's almost up.
