Chapter Thirty-Nine

679 28 3
                                    

PSA!!!
School. Is. ASS! Ya girl wanted to update early in the week but GOLLY, she was stressed and exhausted! Stayed up til 2:45 AM working on a damn assignment that didn't even matter 🙂 Stayed up til 1 AM working on a project that got a date change 🙂🙂 AND STAYED UP TIL 1:40 AM PAINTING A SELF PORTRAIT THAT DIDNT AFFECT MY GRADE FOR SHIT 🙃🙃🙃 Mind you... I wake up at 6:20 AM for school ERRDAY 😄😆😡

I digress, I'm at the end of Finals Week THANK THE LORDT! Also, guess what!

This is the third to last chapter of this book 😳 I'm not crying... I swear.

I'll save all the emotion for the epilogue until then, here's chapter 39...
———————————————————

The lobby of my old ballet studio was calm, quiet... It was nothing at all like the loud thrumming of my heart. It was dark, the moonlight shining bright through the high windows and bouncing off of the many mirrors in the room.

I swallowed down the enormous lump in my throat, my hands shaking as I stepped forward. My feet echoed across the wooden floorboards.

"Lucy? Lucy?" I heard echo across the room. It was the same hysterical voice from over the phone. Layla. "Where are you?"

"Mom!" I called, picking up my pace to fly across the room in the direction of her voice, "Mama?!" Right when I called again, her voice came from behind a door to a storage closet on my left.

"Lucy—" Her voice broke off as I ran and snatched the door open.

I was met with a small flat-screen television displaying a video recording. Layla came into the frame from around the cameraman, and she sighed in relief.

"There you are." She chuckled sweetly, sinking down to squat next to my small nine-year-old frame. I blinked, my heart freezing as my mind tried to catch up to this sudden discovery. The little me was sitting helplessly in front of a rack of clothes with my arms wrapped around my knees, "What are you doing in here?"

Suddenly, the video sparked in my mind, a memory. I started quoting our conversation, still confused, but entranced with the image of my mother and I sitting in the storage closet of the ballet studio. We were safe.

"'Everyone makes fun of me.'" I softly quoted from the little me, "'I suck at dancing, Mommy.'"

Layla chuckled, "You do not suck."

As the recording continued, I heard a creak in the floorboards by the back of the room. My eyes trailed cautiously to Gray, who stood in front of the mirror wall with a remote control in his hand.

We stared at each other for a long moment before he smirked softly, walking casually over to me. Chill bumps rippled across my skin as he walked closely past me to place the remote on the TV's stand, and to retrieve the camera that was hooked up to it. He disconnected the camera, and the image of my mother and I disappeared. It was replaced with grey television static, taking all feelings of safety with it.

I watched Gray's every move, and at the moment, I didn't sense any malice in him... And that terrified me even more.

"Sorry about tricking you like that, Luce." He apologized softly, "But isn't this better? Knowing that your mother doesn't have to be involved?"

My eyes closed and a huge wave of relief washed over me. He was bluffing this entire time. I let out a deep sigh at the knowledge that Layla was safe. She was still out of town with Robin, she never had to witness the gut-wrenching silver gaze of the ice menace in front of me. She was safe.

Twilight (Fairy Tail Version)Where stories live. Discover now