Hello! I know I have some others to finish, but I just couldn't get this story out of my head!
Please enjoy! Thanks so much, and as always, I hope you love it.

Happy reading! ~Rinn

(DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FAIRY TAIL OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. HOWEVER, I DO OWN THIS STORY. THANK YOU)


I'm running as fast as my legs can carry me. I don't look back. I don't want to. I can't.
My heart pounds in my chest, not only from the physical repercussions of my actions,
but because of what I'm doing, and the steps I'm taking.

The length I am going for my freedom.

Air-jet engines roar overhead, sirens wail, and the sounds of soldiers yelling out commands
and their steel toed boots rampaging on concrete resonate all around the field and into the woods.

The moon shines bright, tonight, almost as if it's begging me to go to it, to escape.

I let myself rest on the bark of a large tree. Sweat shimmers down my face and neck,
I wipe it away with the back of my hand and sink to the ground.

I didn't realize it until now, but I'm crying. I let myself have a small laugh before
I wipe my eyes and hoist myself to my feet. There isn't time for me to sit and rest.

Floodlights flash into action. Searchlights from the helicopters above peer into the thick leaves of the
forest. Lucky for me, the search parties in the sky can't see me under the thick cover of the forest trees.

Unfortunately, the people behind me, equipped with beaming flashlights, can. The sounds of footsteps on the damp
grass rapidly get louder and louder. I take off, flying silently through the underbrush and low hanging branches.

My uniform sticks to me tightly in the summer humidity, and I'm grateful for the two satchels
I have on my hips, and the duffel slung like a backpack over my shoulders. Each time either
one crashes into my shoulder blades or side, I am reminded of what I'm doing.

I'm running away.

From the only life I've ever known.

From the only "family" I have, and the only friends and I've ever made.

My name is Lucy Heartfilia and I am fighting for my rights as a human being.
To do what I what, where I want, when I want, and with the people I have yet to meet.

My whole life had been spent wishing for a different one. Wishing for it on every eyelash I lost, every penny
I found heads-up, every dandelion I plucked, in every mid-night prayer and in every dream. I wished for it
at 11:11, at wishing wells; I wished for it on every shooting star and on every non-existent birthday candle.

In each one of these, I tried to wish myself away, away from my father,
away from this base, away from the military, away from it all.

All I ever wanted in life was to be happy.

And by my own strength, I will break free from this prison
and create a life for myself that will make me truly happy.

Because I stopped believing in miracles and fairy tales a long time ago. I may be new to this
whole independence thing, but I couldn't imagine myself living any other way, in happiness.

So that's why, from this day forth, I forge my own path in life, not fed by lineage
or status, or wealth or power, but by my actions, and my actions alone.

A smile creeps across my face as I realize I'm in no man's land, and out of my father's jurisdiction.
He won't follow me this far, not today, not for a while. I run and run and run, until I'm not running, anymore.

I'm falling, and I'm regretting yesterday's downpour. I curse myself for not waiting
until the ground dried up as I slip and tumble down the face of a mudslide.

I must've ticked off the ground, I think bitterly. I guess it doesn't like 4,000 soldiers stomping around,
being dispatched over one, stupid, over-confident little girl, who thought she could get away.

I guess, somewhere deep inside, I hoped that my life could be like a fairy tale. That if I just
believed in myself and ran as fast as I could, as far away as possible, that everything would be
alright, that I would escape, and maybe find a handsome prince, and live happily ever after.

But that's what I get for believing in fairy tales, one last time, and getting my hopes up.

That's what I get for believing in myself.

I will never escape him.

He will haunt me all the rest of the days of my life.

These are the last thoughts in my head, before my forehead hits a rock, and the world fades
fuzzily into pitch black. This is what I get. Lucky Lucy isn't so lucky, anymore.


Sorry this is so short! It's just an idea, so tell me if you guys want more!
I'm always open to suggestions and comments, even pointing out my mistakes.

Whatever you have to say is always important to me as a writer and a friend.
So, please, comment away and I hope you enjoyed the teaser to My Name Is Lucy.
As always, thank you.

Happy reading! ~Rinn E.