Lucy Robinson
Bio
22, nanny to three kids, lover of reading, gaming, anime, camping, walking, climbing and generally just being outdoors
Stories (6)
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The Last Time
I thought we were best friends. I thought she trusted me. She’d tell me everything and anything, even if she wasn’t supposed to, as if it was just gossip. But not this time. No, this time she didn’t tell me anything whatsoever. I always confessed to everything that was going on with me. Why hadn't she?
By Lucy Robinson6 years ago in Humans
Love or Friendship
This hurts. Knowing you like someone and never dreaming you'll have the courage to admit it for fear of losing their friendship. Each time you talk to them, whether it be face to face or through a text, you can't help but imagine what it'd be like to be with them. And you smile. But then that smile cracks as you realise that it's just a fantasy, that its never going to happen - or that the possibility that in it happening, then brings misfortune. So you try not to show it, try not be so clingy or so attentive that it become obvious. But you know you can't be the opposite, otherwise then they'll start asking questions, "How come you don't talk to me any more?" or, "Don't you care about me? Why don't you listen to me like you used to?". You have no choice to be in the middle, trying to find some balance between not too much or too little. Sometimes you want those feelings to go away, so you can go back to normal. But then you think, how can I want them to go away when even though I don't want to admit these feelings, ever, they can make me feel so good sometimes? It hurts, but it doesn't. You want the feelings to go, but you don't. The balance you try to find slips all over the place, making you wonder if it'll never grip and you'll just fall off one side or the other, and you'll possibly lose that friend forever.
By Lucy Robinson6 years ago in Humans
Assumption
Feet curling, nails digging, teeth bared, tight skin, wide eyes and dishevelled hair. Clammy palms and dry knuckles used to wipe every ounce of blood, sweat and tears, that appear to pour out every minute. Muscles tense with every movement, causing pain to shoot through me, resulting in a spasm like that of a fish being electrocuted. I gaze up to face my abuser of my suffering, knowing they're very well thinking, "Your time is up, say goodbye". Yet though, as I receive another wound, I reach the peak, and shout finally..
By Lucy Robinson6 years ago in Motivation
Into the Unknown
I remember the day so vividly, it brings back so much anger and hurt. My Father had been cooped up in bed, suffering from a serious illness, with no one other than me to try and ease the pain. I was by his side constantly, every beck and call was answered with immediacy - the thought that if I didn't do all he asked would only make me think that he would die thanks to me, so I had to be vigilant.
By Lucy Robinson6 years ago in Horror
The Wrong Choice
What do I do now? Can I be as happy as I once was? I lie in my bed, fixated on a small photograph that I possessed in my purse. This was no stereotypical photograph.. you know, a lover, a child, a mother or father. No, this was far from any of those.
By Lucy Robinson6 years ago in Petlife
