Anastasia's Secret {Harry Styles}

Chapter 1 - Mysterious Styles

This chapter is dedicated to fictionalchase. If you are reading this story and are looking for a new fan-fic to read I strongly recommend hers, they are absolutly adorable and you'll fall in love with them!

Enjoy!! 

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“And that was the night I ran away. It was also the night I met your grandfather who is sleeping over there.” Molly’s grandmother pointed to the waiting chair.

“And how did you meet?” Molly’s eyes stared at her in pure amazement.

“He saw me on the side of the road and offered to give me a lift.”

A little chuckle escaped Molly’s lips before she asked,“What made you marry him?”

“He was a charmer at the time, I guess.” Anastasia breathed in heavily, consuming the last of oxygen from the near empty tank.

“Don’t leave me, Gran.” Molly held onto her grandmother’s frail hand, tears falling freely from her face.  They dripped off the end of her nose like a steady rainfall. 

“You know I can’t do that.”  Anastsia's voice was weak and tired sounding, despite the stubbornness of her words. 

“But you will, we all know that.” Molly let out a soft sigh, wiping at her wet cheeks with one hand.

“Yes, but darling you’ll never be alone, I’ve made sure of that. Plus you have grandad, he’s going to need all the help he can get.” A soft laugh flowed from their mouths, filling the silence.  The laugh was rather empty sounding, instead of mirth it was filled with mourning. Molly wiped more of her salty tears away and held her grandmother close to her chest, breathing in the familiar scent of freshly mowed grass.

“Wh-h-at was in that b-b-ox by the w-w-ay?” Molly said in-between breaths. Her tongue felt like it had been leadened, and she could barely convince herself to speak at all.  Maybe if they just became very still time would stop and she could keep her grandmother forever... 

“It was a gift to the Brimstone family, a big gift indeed. It’s something I wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not even your mother, but now I see that you’ll need it the most.” She lifted a long golden chained necklace from her neck and with her frail shaking hand, placed it into Molly’s palm.

“On the end of their necklace there is a key…” Anastasia gasped for air.

“Grandma?” Molly stood up from the chair, watching in helplessness as her grandmother clutched her chest in agony.  Molly's eyes grew wide and fearful. 

“Key… Golden box…. Anastasia…. St-tairs” She began to wheeze.

“Grandma?” Molly touched her arm, knowing what was about to happen next. Anastasia went into a fit, banging her arms up and down like a two year old. Doctors rushed into the room and placed a mask over her face. She had finally lost it.   Mollys Grandfather staggered from his chair and slowly dragged her out of the room, tears cascading down his face. Anastasia’s desperate cries echoed throughout the hallway, until the beeping of the heart monitor did a long and endless scream.

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“You were just like her you know. Always there to brighten someone’s mood.” Molly’s grandfather smiled whilst looking down at the aged photos of himself and his wife. 

“And what makes you say that?” Molly asked him pouring orange juice into the tall, thin glass.

“Well…” He thought to himself for a minute. “You are always there if someone needs a helping hand, you’re always considerate. Oh, but you don’t have her attitude. Thank goodness!”