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Lucy rushed up the cold, hard stairs, occasionally pausing to shift her heavy schoolbag from one shoulder to the other. The backpack was mostly filled with the homework of various people in her class whom she found herself unable to say no to. They called themselves her friends, but Lucy had yet to see any signs of friendship on their part.

As she began to tire of climbing, Lucy wondered if perhaps it would have been a better idea to take the lift to the top floor of the block of flats. The stairs combined with the heavy bag were definitely wearing her out. However, there was always someone else in the lift at this time. They would always remain silent, merely watching, judging. All the residents of Mortimer Flats knew by now about what happened to Lucy’s mother. Some even blamed Maria McKessie for the incident; everyone in the city muttered in shadowy tones about that area, and Lucy’s mother had driven through it. It wasn’t her fault, though, Lucy knew.

“It was my fault.” She had stated this suddenly as she and her father had watched the coffin sliding slowly into the ground. She still said it sometimes, especially after a nightmare. Maria McKessie, loving mother and wife, the gravestone had said. If anything, Maria had been too loving, too willing to please.  

She only drove through that neighbourhood because Lucy had been determined to see the singing Christmas display at the shopping centre. As a five year old, there were so many things she didn’t understand: that her mother was tired, that it was very late. That getting to the centre on time would mean a dangerous shortcut. All she knew was that her friends had seen the singing teddies, and now she had to as well.

To Lucy, it was plain and simple. If she could have just waited until the next day, her mother wouldn’t have been shot. Her father wouldn’t have taken to drinking, gambling, drugs and violence, and Lucy would be happy…

Lucy drifted off, thinking of what could have been. Then, she had arrived. After turning her key in the lock and shoving on the warped door, Lucy entered the flat. It felt empty and, apart from a rumpled comforter on the old couch, it looked unlived-in. In the corner there was a massive old armchair which she and her mother had once loved sitting in. After coming home from the hospital, Lucy had often spent hours curled up cat-like, sometimes crying. She hadn’t done this for years, but still remembered its softness, its gentle velvety blue texture. Her father would probably sell it for gambling money soon, Lucy mused. It seemed that the memory of Maria McKessie was not something people wished to preserve.  

So Lucy decided to sit in the old chair one last time. She dumped the heavy bag by the door. If she didn’t start the homework now, she’d be up all night, but by now she didn’t particularly care. It felt much smaller, as she had obviously grown a lot since being five years old. She could still sit in it with her knees drawn up to her chin, though. Leaning against the back she felt the soft material on her cheek, and found she could still faintly smell her mother’s perfume. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes, and rolled down her face silently as she became immersed in memories.  

Maria McKessie had been a beautiful person, both superficially and introspectively. She’d had bright silvery eyes, not dull, lifeless grey ones like Lucy’s. In stark contrast to Lucy’s straight, pitch-black hair, she had Titian red curls. The woman had a quiet face which looked as though she knew a big secret. And yet Lucy’s mother had been so open with everyone…

By now, tears were streaming down Lucy’s ghostly pale face. For a long time she’d convinced herself that the pain of the death was gone, but it seemed that in truth it had simply being pushed down, having not been given an opportunity for release.

Suddenly, her ancient mobile phone started ringing with a repetitive little tune. Jumping out of the chair hurriedly, Lucy fumbled out in her bag for some time before finding the device. Upon glancing at the screen, she felt sick to her stomach. It was a text message from her ex-boyfriend, Dean. Her first and only relationship, lasting six months. During that time, she had made her feel like the most special person in the world, her confidence soaring- and then with a snap of his fingers he could treat her like a despicable being. Dean said he knew her so well, he could list every on of her best and worst qualities; Lucy had believed him, hung onto his every word. Then she’d caught him in a compromising position with one of her so-called “friends”, and she knew she had to ignore him no matter what. No matter how sorry he was, no matter how much he loved her…

Suddenly Lucy was screaming incessantly, throwing the phone to the floor and stamping on it repeatedly with her old school shoes. Once it was apparent that the phone was permanently annihilated, she stopped.

Standing aimlessly in the middle of the floor, her thoughts turned to the knife under her bed, the numerous little bags her father thought were safely hidden in the kitchen cupboard. But they would never provide a proper release.

So Lucy made her way onto the fire escape, and soon she was on the roof. It felt miles above the world, and it made Lucy realise how much she would like to run away. To escape once and for all from this world of manipulative boyfriends, alcoholic dads and fake friends; from ignorant neighbours, a hellish school and from a world where no-one listened or noticed when someone really needed help.

The raven-haired girl looked up into the sky. To jump into that big blue mass and never return, she thought, would be the ultimate release. There was always a painful return to reality with knives and drugs, but that one leap would be forever.

Barely realising her own actions, Lucy ran across the expanse of the roof, her grey school blazer and skirt nearly blending in with the dull concrete. So boring, that grey, especially next to the sky so blue. Her hair flew wildly behind her, and for once there was happiness in her eyes.

She reached the edge, and without hesitation… she leapt.
I wrote this last year for my Higher English work, hope you think it's good, although it's not the most cheerful story you'll ever read :P
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