London Calling Lyrics Novels & Stories

I put the phone to my ear and it felt like he was making love to it through the phone, speaking to me in such a way. “Yes.” “You're a good girl.” I didn't even know what to say, until he spoke again. He was on normal call, not video call, if not I wanted to see him. “Turn off the lights.” I got out of bed and did just that. “Lie down and drop the phone, just listen to me.” I laid perfectly down, my chest heaving in anticipation. I was literally burning inside. All my emotions were barely contained. “Raise your stupid short dress up and take off your thong.”

**** **SONG SEQUENCE STARTS** **** [From the breaking of the day to the middle of the night From the breaking of the day to the middle of the night From the breaking of the day to the middle of the night From the breaking of the day to the middle of the night Summertime and I'm caught in the feeling Getting high and I'm up on the ceiling I don't know what you're doing in New York All I know is you ain't on my bedroom floor I'm seeing you undressed in my room

My phone suddenly ring the moment I sent the message. "Mom, is everything alright?" I heard her sniffing and seemed like crying. "I just missed my son. Can you visit me here?" I furrowed my brows, thinking if she was fighting against Dad. "Of course, Mom," I furrowed my brows as I heard that the call had ended. I tried to call her back until my attention shifted to someone who knock on my window. He was taller than Xincere, so I assume that it was not her. I shook my head as I saw my Dad the moment I dropped down my window.

Singing don't worry about a thing Cause every little thing is gonna Be alright Woke up this morning Sit with the rising sun Three little birds Pitch by my doorstep Singing sweet songs of Melodies pure and true This is my message to you Singing don't worry about a thing Cause every little thing Is gonna be alright now The scream melted down into gasping sobs, my entire being quaking to the point my teeth chattered. I vaguely heard Mykel tell Liz to take us home before the engine turned over and we were pulling out of the parking lot.

A line in the song would be: crying in the back of a cab in fucking London. This city has taken so much from me. I hate this place. “Are you alright there, mate?” “Yeah. Yeah.” My head falls back in defeat. I hear the sound of a car, but my eyes close to everything. “Take me back to the house.” My phone rings. I answer without checking the caller’s identity. Once I know it’s Scott, I say, “Don’t worry, I’m on my way back.” The boys don’t have to worry about me having a breakdown anymore or getting distracted. Lucas was right all along. She moved on. Maybe it’s time to do the same.

I drag myself off of it and I stand also. The silky nightgown I’m wearing feels good on my skin. “No caffeine can make me this excited.” He sings and I cover my ears. Somebody save me. “Why do you want me to get ready? Are you taking me Paris?” I suggest and he chuckles. “I will take you Paris another day, but for today, I am going to give you a tour of the great London.” He says and I try not to laugh. “Do you even know London that well?” I reply and he shrugs with a smirk.

I feel like I’ve built a wall, and the phone call love might use to reach me has been cut. ⸻

Not because he took away those that were really dear to my heart, or that he always took the lives of the innocents. Death was cruel to me because he saw me all the time, begging for my life to be taken, but still chose to turn a blind eye to my desires. "London bridge is falling down, my fair lady." The silly song went on and on again as my mum sang along. "Lady? Fair lady, mum, really? That's impossible." A thirteen year old me aspired inquiry on the original lyrics to the kindergarten song. Mother always sang that song to me when I was little, up to the time I got into middle school. And it always funny because it took me about ten years to realise the correct words to the song.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She racked her brain, trying to remember her father’s number. It came to her in a rush, a lifeline she desperately needed. She dialed the number, her heart pounding as she waited for the call to connect. Each ring felt like an eternity. Finally, she heard her father’s voice on the other end. “Hello?” “Dad, it’s me, Evelyn,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m in London, and I need your help.”

I need more! "Set the jet ready.. We're going to London." I called my secretary.