The Memory Jar [Zayn Malik]

Chapter 19: Conflicting

Hi all! So, I hope you're all having a good week, maybe some of you are already on break... Finals are just around the corner for me, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday of next week. Somehow I've still managed to find time to write within all my studying, but it's happened! I hope that you all forgive me if I end up not updating before next Friday, but I might... I'll aim for this Friday, but who knows with me...

Anywho, on the story, there're only about two more chapters left! :O That's crazy, isn't it? I have to say, this chapter is not my best, and kind of acts as a sort of filler, but it is important nevertheless! So I hope you all don't hate me if it seems a bit off, it's really just creating causes for later effects... if you understand that. xD

So, read on everyone! Two days since the last update, it's got to be a record! :D

Please vote and/comment to let me know how I'm doing! As always, I love hearing feedback! :)

 Dana 

        "Watch where you're going, yeah?"

         "Sorry," I mumble, digging my hands into my coat pockets as I weave through the busy streets of London.

          The air throws cold daggers at my face, and I can't help but feel absolutely miserable. I've been stuck wandering around the city for a day or so now, and after the few months I was gone, I still somehow have trouble remembering the layout of it all.

          Funnily enough, I would have thought that remembering everything else, I would at least remember how to get around properly. But I guess being out of practice of weaving through the alley maze, I'm just about as useless as a complete foreigner.

          It also turns out that I grabbed a lot less money than I thought the other night, in my rush to get out of the house and away from the boys. I only have enough money left to buy a couple pastries or a sandwich at most, and even that's not worth it right now.

         I try and try to work something out, even if it's just on a two dimensional map, but that doesn't seem to work either. I'm just utterly lost; the street names mean nothing to me and neither do the stores I pass by.

          It's hopeless, I'm utterly lost and miserable out here. I don't have anyone anymore. I can't find Ben and Dad, Mum is long gone, and Zayn and the boys... I can't go back to them. Not in a million years, not after doing that to me.

          "Bye Marcel!"

           I look up at hearing the loud call, and turn to my left to see a quaint little bakery, the door open with a rich, sweet scent drifting out.

          The thing that really catches my attention about the bakery is the name, Marcel's Makings. It's familiar, and it only takes another few seconds until I realize that it's a place Ben and I used to scrounge for treats in.

            Marcel was a nice guy, I can faintly remember. He wasn't like most, he'd catch us snooping in the trashcans, and instead of chasing us off, he'd hand us a pile of freshly baked cookies first. He was one of the few who asked zero questions, yet still offered his all to complete strangers.

            The smell is so inviting, I want nothing more than to run inside and buy the first sweet thing I see. But I know I have to keep searching, I have to find Ben and Dad.

           I vaguely remember the direction from the bakery that Ben and I used to go and begin to follow it, seeing more and more familiarity. My speed begins to quicken until I'm full on running, and my feet are naturally taking me where I'm meant to go.