Never Alone

Never Alone (4835)

Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in about... forever. I have literally lost all motivation. When I was 13 (I'm 15 1/2 now) I made an account on Wattpad and wrote my first ever talk. It was pretty successful. I loved the fame. But then I stopped getting notifications so I made this account for all of my creepy story ideas and just... anything besides porn because I wanted to gain that same fame. At first I really really tried but the didn't quite pay off. I'm trying to be more active now which is why this crap story is not uploaded with just some random picture I found in my gallery rather than a decent cover. I'll probably go through one day and fix everything wrong with this but for now this can do. I'm kinda more into drawing and digital art anyways to be honest. Anyways, please, I know the beginning is terrible but I had three days and had to be very descriptive, read it until the very end. It's a good story and it has a meaning, I just need to fix it. Please leave a comment//vote and maybe even subscribe if you would like more stories like this (or even for me to update a story on either of my accounts... I have no finished works. It's sad).

It is a bright and sunny day in London. The sun is shining brightly and the birds are singing sweetly. I am walking down the street towards home with a bag full of medical supplies I just had refilled at the pharmacy. I was so distracted by the clear, blue sky that I didn’t even notice the beautiful, young lady heading my way, “Ah! I-I’m so sorry, sir!”

           I look down at her and her things which were scattered about the pavement. I get down on my hands and knees, watching her with awe as she frantically reaches for her items and shoves them back into her purse. I help her.

           When we finish putting everything we could scavenge back into her purse I help her up, “Thank you . . . I-I’m really sorry for bumping into you. I should have been paying more attention.”

           “Oh- No, you’re fine, miss. I was the one day dreaming.” She smiles a soft, gentle smile. I look up at the sky, “Look up at the clouds!” I point towards a white, puffy one off to my left, “That one looks like an eye! And that one kind of looks like a knife! I’ve heard somewhere that clouds can predict your future.”

           She looks up at the sky, “What do you mean? There isn’t a cloud in sight.”

           I turn to her, “You only see what you want to see, if you don’t want to see it you never will.” She looks at me, confused, but smiles anyways.

           I gently grab her hand. It was quite small in my own, “I hope to see you again,” I plant a gentle kiss on the top of her hand, “M’lady.” Her face goes bright red.

           “I-I really must be going . . . it was nice running into you.” She replies. I smile, showing crooked, white teeth. She smiles in return.

           “I really must be going as well. I hope to run into you again. Maybe just not as hard though next time.” She laughs, waving as she turns to leave the direction I just came from. I pick up my bag and continue on after she was out of view and, hopefully, safe.

           A few days later I run into her again at the grocery store in one of the aisles. I stand a few feet away from her, blushing. I may look scary, but I am actually a real softy. She notices this and sighs then begins to walk towards me. I quickly straighten myself up, pretending like I didn’t know she was heading my way.

           “Hey,” She said, “I couldn’t help but notice that you were looking at pads.”

           I turn to the shelf and actually begin to pay attention to what I am looking at for once. I blush profusely with embarrassment, “A-actually. Th-this isn’t what you-”