She sat there, still in her black pajamas, looking out at the view available to see from her new bedroom terrace. The view was of the beautiful town of Salem, Oregon. This was to be a new beginning for her and her "family". Don't get her wrong, she loved this town (even though she had only been an official citizen of Salem for approximately five days,) but she wasn't really up for a new family and had a hard time getting used to the idea that the blue-eyed blonde woman was her mother and the red headed brown-eyed man was her father. Well, she didn't really call Mr. Nightblaid (at first she had laughed at the name, it sounded like like "knight blade,") as a member of the family because he was rarely even home.
Absentmindedly, she picked a surviving, purple annual pansy from a planting clay plot and started shredding the petals to small pieces and then into even smaller bits until there was only a sweet, potent smelling sap from the flower and the tiny, almost nonexistent pieces that marked the end of the beautiful pansy. Slowly, she walked back inside her room, away from the slight chill of the autumn season. Fall (or autumn) was her favorite time of year, maybe her birthday being in the fall is one reason but it isn't the only reason. Fall was the time for leaves to sacrifice their lives and dress into beautiful gowns of red, purple, green, yellow, and orange before falling off of their trees and down to the hard, already littered ground. It was also a time for rain to come down and nourish the trees one last time before the frost came and lay a glaze over everything, freezing everything and everything it touches.
Treading lightly on the forest green carpet in her fuzzy socks, she walked to her antique, wooden wardrobe. Then swiftly opening the moaning double doors of the wardrobe, she was once again hit by the rusty, old smell of a museum and perfume. Inside of this antique, there were her two pairs of dark jeans, two bright t-shirts, and her only pair of shoes. Her shoes had been a present from her first adopted mother on Christmas day, but had been many sizes too big. Her mother had said that it was a present to wear when she had grown up and was a able to fit into them. To this day, she still couldn't fit exactly in them, and it was good thing she could lace up the leather combat boots.
Putting on the combat boots, she took out her clothes, her new laptop and her fairytale book from when she had been dropped off at a hospital and stuffed them in the big neon green backpack Mrs. Nightblaid had given her shortly after she had had her first lunch within the huge (and not in the slight bit modest) Nightblaid Mansion. She just didn't belong in this type of place. For as long as she could remember she had been part of the Glayer family, the strongly united, humorous, and happy family. She didn't belong in this family.
Smiling slightly, she laced up the boots, put on her maroon sweater and light green jacket on top of her unadorned pajamas. Walking with purpose to the terrace, she pulled her dark, curly hair back in a ponytail and clipped her long bangs into place. There was a slight drizzle of rain that cooled her heated skin but left unneeded traces of raindrop tracks on her big, black glasses. Putting one foot over the edge of the rail of the terrace and then cautiously lifted the other foot over, too. Before swinging her eleven-year-old body over the side, she took one last look over her shoulder at the place she had called home for five days.
She flipped once before landing in a stealth position. This was going very smoothly so far and she intended it to be that way for now until forever. She would never truly belong anywhere, even when part of the Glayer family she hadn't been completely happy. And being safe was only an illusion, you were never really safe. Anywhere.
She darted toward the front gate, careful not to be in the line of vision of the cameras. (She had memorized the paths of the security cameras her first day there). Gracefully, she climbed the fence and ran.
She went down every street she knew and searched for the perfect house. She searched for the house that was normal. Not a mansion and not a shack. It was the closest place she could find that reminded her of that one home, the Glayer's home. It was painted brown and had a red door. It was beautiful.
Walking up to the house, she put on her best happy face and right before she knocked on the door she took out her laptop and hacked into the family's house computer, putting in a fake application saying that whoever Mrs. Janet Gabriella Weidmen was had requested an orphan girl of eleven years that was above average intelligence because, by looking at their son's report card on the school's strictly "teachers only" files, their child was an original genius. Just like her. Well, she was probably smarter, of course.
She knocked softly and politely, making sure to make a good impression on the family. To her amusement, as soon as she knocked a pale man opened the door. This was probably Mr. Weidmen. He had blonde hair and green eyes. He looked flustered and worried.
"Mr. Weidmen, it is very nice to meet you. I am sure you are aware of who I am. But I will like to introduce myself formally and face to face. I am Ginnavia, no last name and no middle name. I have spent eleven years breathing on this planet we call earth. I am extremely fond of books, the tv show House of Anubis, and music." She said with a small smile and a glint of excitement in her eyes, which she faked, but Mr. Weidmen didn't need to know that, did he?
"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Gainaivia.". Replied Mr. Weidmen with a forced smile that did not meet his eyes. "Mrs. Weidmen? Do you know anything about a girl named Gannaiva?" Mr. Weidmen called to what she assumed was the kitchen.
"It is pronounced Ginn-ah-vee-ah.". Said Ginnavia with just a hint of frustration in her voice. Everybody got her name wrong. But her comment was ignored by the parent at the front door. "Mr. Weidmen, may I enter your lovely home?"
"Of course, come inside.". He answered absentmindedly, waving her in looking distractedly out the window.
When Ginnavia entered the house, she was met with the pleasant smell of broth and salad dressing. This house was much more welcoming than Nightblaid Mansion. This house was seemingly alive and full to the brim with contentedness.
Out of thin air, the Weidmen child appeared at the bottom of the stairwell. He had blonde hair, pale skin, and green eyes just like his father. He froze, mid-step and simply gawked at the tan, dark and curly haired, almost black-eyed girl standing in the front hall.
"And who are you?" He asked in an impolite ton of voice that clearly stated that this was his house and that she was most unwelcome. She was at the bottom of the staircase in a flash and the boy wondered how she could possibly be that fast.
"I am Ginnavia, no last name and no middle name. I have spent eleven years breathing on this planet we call earth. I am extremely fond of books, the tv show House of Anubis, and music. It is a pleasure to meet you and I hope that you won't always be so hostile to me." She said quietly, sticking out her hand in a friendly gesture. He arched his eyebrow in disbelief. She laughed at this and he felt a red blush spread quickly across his face.
"What are you laughing at?" He asked incredulously. He did not like the way she was laughing at him at all. "Are you laughing at me? What are you doing here?"
"First, I am laughing at you because it looks like if you arch your eyebrow any higher, it is going to disappear in your hair. Second, I am not laughing at you, but I am laughing at your "eyebrow incident". Third of all, I have been adopted by your mother and still know nothing about you. So tell me about yourself." Ginnavia said to him with a smile and a wave of her hands as she made her ponytail into a braid down her back.
The boy was speechless at the river of words that came out in a British accent from this one girl's mouth in only a matter of seconds. He was tongue tied and he was experiencing an emotion that he hadn't felt before. His face turned red and he tried to say something, but couldn't.
"Haha, that is what I thought." She said with a smirk.
A/N: Hey! Hoped you liked it. Merci beaucoup! :)