The Right Time (A Beatles FanFic)

The Right Time Chapter 7

‘I should have waited till morning to run away. Well, it’s hardly running away. I mean, it’s not like they control me, or care.’ Jackie found an ally where she decided to spend the rest of the night. She didn’t sleep.

In the morning she got up, and started walking. She didn’t know where to, she just walked, checking out everything. People were looking at her funny. Probably because of the way she was dressed. She had on jeans, a Beatles tee, and converses. She had taken a jacket of Paul’s because she thought she would get cold at night. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she had a head band in. She’d been wearing those clothes since she got there so they were pretty gross, too. She kept her eyes down, and kept walking.

“GUYS!” Paul yelled from his room. “What, you lunkhead? It’s 7:30am!” John shouted from his bed. “Jackie’s gone!” “What’d you mean ‘gone’?” George asked, sleepily. “She is not here, and she left a note. It says:

Dear Beatles,

Thank you for putting up with me.

I had nowhere else to go.

Sorry I was so annoying.

I’ll figure things out by myself, thanks.

Love, Jackie

P.S.

I took one of Paul’s jackets.

“I miss her already!” Ringo said. "When was she so annoying?" asked George. “I can’t believe she left,” Paul said. He felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. “I didn’t e-even tell her how I feel.” “You wouldn’t have if she stayed,” John poked his shoulder. “Don’t joke with me, Lennon,” Paul practically yelled at John. “Ok, ok,” John said, holding his hands up defensively. “We should go find her,” Paul said as he grabbed his coat. “WAIT!” John yelled. “What?” “I need to get dressed.”

Jackie walked past a group of guys, drinking and smoking. “Ey, angel face!” A guy with a ciggie, and a beer, called after her. Jackie ignored him, and kept walking. The guy grabbed her arm. “I said hey.” His breath smelled of beer and death. His voice was harsh. He wasn’t too big, with a teddy boy hairstyle, like most boys in the sixties, a leather jacket and keks. “Let go,” Jackie said in her most intimidating voice. “Oh,” he said, pulling closer to him, “Am I hurting you, angel face?” His cronies laughed, stupidly. “Scram! I want to have a talk with angel face here,” he yelled at his ugly accomplices. They laughed and walked away. The guy pulled her into an ally. She backed up against the wall, and he put his hands on either side of her on the dirty wall. “Now, girlie. I’ll teach you to talk to me like that. What’s with your clothes anyway, huh? Why you wearing boys clothes?” Jackie shuddered at his horrid breath. “Get off!” Jackie shouted, and kicked him as hard as she could in the balls. He stumbled backwards. She tried to run away, but he grabbed her. She screamed. “HELP! HELP ME!”

“Did you hear that?” John stopped in his tracks, “Yeah. It’s coming from this way! Let’s go!”

“You don’t know what you’re doing kid.” The guy twisted her wrists. She cried out in pain. “Stop! Please!” “Oh, please? That changes everything!” He loosened his grip. “Not!” and tightened again. He whispered in her ear with his sour breath “So, angel face. What’s yer business in my territory? Everyone knows what happens to little girls who wander into my turf.”

“HEY FUCKWIT!”