I Fell Hard! (A Jacksepticeye fanfic)

2 - Nana Claire and Grampa John.

Patrica's POV

I hate my life. Every single solitary minute of it. I don't even understand why I'm here. Every day I get told I am a waste of space by Julia, the most popular girl in school, and her two little sidekicks Betty and Jenny. Those girls were always on my back. Telling me about how stupid I am about cutting, telling me things, calling me things and anything else a bully does. They were bullies, but they take it too far.

At school

Well, it's the last day. Then it's the summer. I think I'm ready for a break, from you know who. I met a really cool guy aswell when he was visiting London for a whole because college was being to stressful for him. That's what he told me anyway. He said that he knew Sean and that he knew that I like him due to the jumper I was wearing. Yes I watch all of his videos. Yes I have all his merch. Yes I am addicted! But hey, not like I would ever meet him. I have to get on with school anyway and stop daydreaming.

"Right guys. Good morning! Today's word of the week is tranquil. Who knows what this means? Partica, could you please tell me?" Mr Davies asked me. He is the only teacher who will talk to me. The rest just think that I'll kill myself if any sort of interaction happens, so they stay away.

"Um, it means, to be calm, chilled." I heared a huff come from the girls in the corner. My bullies.

"That's right. Thank you. I don't think you girls would know," I giggled at sir's response to the girls huff, "So I didn't ask you. I wouldn't push it if you want detention." my whole form grew with cheers of owww.

"Banter banter!" I heared someone whisper from infront of me.

"Calm down now everyone. Get on  with what you were doing now."

At lunch.

I sit on my own every day. It's not fun, but I have to do it. I have noone else here to hang out with, so I keep myself company.

RING RING ~ Bell ~ End of the day

I walked home like I do every day, down the hill and to my house. I have my hoddie and headphones on. I was listening to One Direction, like usual.

At home.

I walk in to see mum in the kitchen. She was making herself a cup of tea. I hate tea. I don't see the point of it. As she sees me, she walks up to me and directs me to the living room.

"I know you haven't been doing too well at the moment in school. So I'm sending you off to Ireland, to stay with your grandparents. How does that sound?" mum is sending me to Ireland... I'm leaving! This is probably one of the best days ever!

"Omg! Really mum!" I lept over to her and hugged her.

"Hey, don't get too excited for leaving me. I do love you. I just thought it would be best for you to go stay with your nan for a while, seeing as you haven't see her for what, 6 years!"

"Yeh. Thanks mum. I love you too." she kissed my cheek and stared into my eyes.

"I will always love you sweetheart."

The morning going to Ireland.

"You all packed and ready to go?" my dad asked me, while jumping into the car.

"Yup." I say, popping the p.

"Well, Ok then. Let's go." he pulls out of the drive way and heads for the airport. I don't like flying, but I will to get out of this place and away from them.

After the plane ride.

I wait for my bags on the conveyor belt. After about 5 minutes of waiting for my bags I start to find my grandparents. There were people running around everywhere, trying to get where they needed to be, so it was kinda hard to find them.

I walk towards the exit to find a familiar woman in a wheelchair and my grandpa behind her. Once she saw me, she ordered grandpa to wheel her forward to greet me.

"Patrica! Oh baby, I have missed you!" nan says with her thick Irish accent. I think it's gotten more Irish since she moved back. I drop my bags as she embraces me in her lovely warm arms. I missed these moments.

"I've missed you so much." I say as I hold back the tears.

"Dosen't you grandfather get one aswell?" grandpa asks, fake crying.

"Of corse!" I let nan go and walk over to grandpa. He raps his arms around me tightly. I missed his hugs.

"I've missed you so much!" I say. This time, it was too hard to hold back the tears, so I just let them go.

"Awe Patrica, don't cry my dear." he says letting me go. My grandpa is Welsh like me. You can tell he's Welsh  he kinda looks like Tom Jones. He pats my head and hands me a tissue. I clean up my tears and they lead me to their car.

It's exactly how I remember it. It's a Ford Focus, 4-door, seal black colour. It has leather seats with blankets slung across the back. Grampa puts my bags in the back as I help nan out of her wheelchair and into the front seat of the car.

How I have missed it here.