Author's Note Okay, so I'm Hecate's Diamon, and this is my first time writing for FictionPress, but I am writing three stories for FanFiction. I figured I might as well sumbit an original story since two of my FanFiction stories are new-generation or whatever.

So here is my first original story, and the title is definately subject to change, any suggestions are very much appreciated. A Cast of Characters and Places can be found on my profile, so you won't get messed up with whose who and what they look like. Anyway... Here goes nothing!

Chapter 1

Ding dong!

My mind jerked violently awake with a start, tricking my blue eyes into opening. My blurry vision settled on the angry red numbers displayed on the digital clock beside my bed. It was the only light in my dark room. It was 3:33 am. I'd been asleep approximately half an hour. There was no way I was getting up to answer the door. My head sunk back into the pillow and I was passing back into unconsciousness.

Ding dong!

I groaned and stirred in my bed. I felt the sheets wrapped around my feet and I was hugging my pillow to my chest as I lay on my stomach. I sighed and gathered all my will power. I flipped onto my back and sat up reluctantly. Here, I paused, getting used to being awake. My head spun and began to pound. I obviously had not yet completely recovered. The blankets I threw aside twisted and landed in a heap as I swung my feet to the carpeted floor. I started in the general direction of my bedroom door, feet snagging on discarded clothes, sliding on stray CD cases, and I kicked an unfortunately full laundry basket.

“Shit!” I swore angrily and kicked it again. It made me feel better and worse at the same time. I found the doorknob and pulled my door open. It ground against the door frame from the time I'd kicked it through the frame and broken the doorstop. I'd been trapped in my room for a couple hours until I'd figured out that I could climb out my window, onto the roof, and in through the spare bedroom's open window.

Ding dong!

The hallway was dark as well, moonlight the only source of light as it filtered in through the window at the end of the hallway. I found my way mostly by instinct and memory. The stairs I counted carefully on my way down, but I slipped and stumbled so often that I lost count. Finally, my barefoot touched cool linoleum. I padded to the door, concentrating hard on walking in a straight line. I reached the door and looked through the peep hole onto the dark Scarborough streets. It wasn't safe to just swing the door open at this time of night. I groaned to myself, brushed a curtain of mussed black hair out of me face, and swung open the door to admit the men in blue.

One's hand was poised, ready to ring the doorbell once more. He was slightly overweight, boasting a ginger coloured toothbrush mustache, and looked to be about forty years old. The other one was a slight man. Stubble was growing back on his chin and jawline and he looked extremely tired. He looked to be around twenty years old, a green cop.

“Lee Bradock?” the young cop asked me seriously as I leaned tiredly on the door.

I nodded. “Mmhmm.”

“I'm Officer Carr and this is my partner Officer Breeze,” the older cop put in. “Sorry to wake you, but would it be alright if we came in? Its about your parents.”

“They aren't home,” I told them, but stepped aside all the same. “They're out ce-ce-celebrating.” I covered my mouth as I yawned widely. I looked warily at the long hallway leading to the kitchen and walked down it. Now that cops were in my house I knew I had to act sober.

I managed a straight line with little stumbling and I didn't fall once. The coffee maker, though, I knew would be a challenge. We entered the kitchen and I stared dumbly at it.

“Uh, would you like some coffee?” I asked them. My mother always offered cops coffee when they brought me home so I figured it was standard protocol. Apparently not, though. One of the cops flicked the kitchen light on.

“No, thank you, we don't plan on being here long,” Breeze said kindly. “Why don't we sit?”

I obeyed, looking curiously at them, though they seemed to shift, leaving a ghost of themselves behind. I groaned and rubbed my temples irritably. Since I'd left the darkness of my room, my headache had intensified and the light spilling from the sconces on the walls wasn't helping much.

“Miss Bradock,” Carr began solemnly. “Earlier this evening there was an traffic accident. On highway 401... What I'm trying to say is your parents were involved; they didn't make it. I'm so sorry.”

The blood roared deafeningly in my ears, my headache completely forgotten. I sobered up immediately.

“Excuse me?” I croaked weakly, my voice catching in my throat so my words came out broken.

Breeze looked at his partner and then at me, face reflecting a small amount of the pain I was about to feel. “I know its hard to accept, miss, but they're gone now. I know how you're feeling right now. I, myself, was told by a cop that my parents had passed on, and I hated him for it, so we understand if you hate us. But, we're still going to have to ask you to please come down to the precinct with us.”

I was struck with disbelief, defiance, denial. They couldn't be dead, they just couldn't. My head dropped onto my arm, resting at the edge of the table. My heart dropped so far I half-expected it to be splattered all over the spotless kitchen floor. My chest tightened and it felt like an invisible giant's hand was squeezing my ribs together with all his strength. It was the feeling of my heart breaking, no shattering, into a million little, tiny pieces.

-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-

The majority of my family was dead. Both sets of grandparents, my dad's sole brother and his family had been killed on September 11th, 2001 and my mother's brother had died when I was four. The only family I had left was my mother's younger sister, much younger sister. My mother had been turning forty six on the day she died. Her sister was twelve years younger, the product of her mother's second marriage - my Aunt Carrie.

The way I remembered her was as a vibrant young woman. She'd had short brown hair that shone red in the sunlight. Her skin was tanned lightly, clear of any blemishes except a small scar on her forehead from when she was eight and had run into the corner of a wall. Her teeth were straight and white, her eyes blue and sparkling. She'd had such a big personality to make up for her lack of height at five feet, two inches tall. But what I remembered the most, was how much she'd loved me.

When I was younger I had visited her constantly in Salem, Massachusetts. Her house had been my favourite place in the world. But as I'd gotten older I'd begun to see her less and less with every passing year. It began as once a month, then once ever six months, once a year.

While I sat on a bench in the waiting room of the police station, the cops called her, told her the news, and asked her to come down and stay with me. I was her charge now. I hadn't seen her in almost two years.

After a four hour long wait, she arrived, piled me into a taxi, and we went home. I hadn't cried yet, but as soon as the front door closed behind us I collapsed and the tears spilled from my eyes. It was clear nothing had changed. Aunt Carrie dropped down beside me, pushing my hair back from my face and hugging me tightly. I sat on the floor in front of the door, arms around my knees, wrapped in my aunt's warm embrace for what felt like an eternity. When I finally dried my eyes and looked at my watch it was 8:30 am. I was exhausted.

“Oh, sweetie,” Aunt Carrie sniffled, brushing a hand at the tears on her own face, then at the tears on mine. “You should go get some rest; I should too. We'll figure everything out later, alright?”

I nodded numbly, accepting the Kleenex she handed me and blowing my nose on the way upstairs to my room. I lay down slowly on my bed, untangling the blankets and throwing them back over myself, hugging the small, soft stuffed animal my parents had bought for me one year at Easter. It was a pig. I hadn't slept with a stuffed animal in years, but I felt like I needed something to cuddle, like I'd just woken from a particularly nasty nightmare. Thats all this was. I was asleep, and I'd wake up and everything would be alright. I told myself that as I let my head drop onto my pillow. A voice in the back of my mind screamed at me that it wasn't true, but for the moment it was a comforting thought as darkness swallowed me.

Author's Note Please, tell me what you think of the first chapter. Kinda short, I know, but still. Constructive critisism is allowed, but no flames 'cause they're stupid and senseless. And, also, any title suggestions are much appreciated! Thanks!