Hi! So, this is going to be a little hectic with this being my last year in high school, but I really wanted to try and start an original work. Okay, that's it. So without further adeu, let's begin!

Chapter 1

The floors were coated in a fine layer of dirt. I watched as the wind blew in from tiny cracks in the walls, making dust bunnies chase each other around in playful circles. I sat back and sighed. Whenever I didn't have anything to do at the orphanage, and usually that was most of the time, I sat on the steps and glared at the floor boards because as much as I hated to admit it, the miniscule world of the dirty hares was more interesting than my own life.

I had been growing up in orphanages since I was five, but I'd rather not have people pity me because of it. I've been tossed around from place to place and still, at the age of sixteen, I haven't even been looked at twice, by a set of possible parents and boys my age alike. However, I can't really blame anyone for the odd "tendencies" that prevent me from finding a real home.

When I was five I remember the day it happened for the first time. My parents, the perfectly normal suburbians that they were, invited a friend of my father's over for a chat. I remember him unintentionally sitting on the little black, stuffed cat I would always tote around, when he planted himself on my parents' Victorian style couch. A normal five year old would be outraged to see her beloved toy besmirched by the buttocks of a forty year old man. But I remained silent. Because I pitied him.

I delicately ambled over to stand in front of him, cutting into my mother's trivial conversation about the weather. If I remember hard enough I can still feel the braids thumping on my back as I stepped over to him.

The words I said next were a mantra that I would repeat to myself over and over again in the years that followed. Words that held forgiveness. Words that held acceptance.

"It's alright."

"Kate!" my mom tried to reprimand me.

"She isn't angry," I went on, ignoring my mother's outcry, "Julia wants you to be happy," I took his big hand in my little ones. I barely noticed the difference, "She told you that even if her world were to stop spinning, time still continues and life must go on, so it's okay if you want to marry Alexis."

I wasn't sure that I really understood what I was saying. I couldn't comprehend it. I was too young. But the message needed to desperately be delivered and apparently no one else in the room could see that. Then the most amazing thing happened.

The man before me crumbled in on himself and started to weep. I had brought a grown man to his knees. He seemed overjoyed to hear my message and even mumbled his thanks through his sobs, kissing my hand as he wept. It was invigorating; this power that I held over other people.

My parents, however, were not thrilled in the least. They stood huddled and petrified in a corner of the room. My mother, pale and wide eyed. My father, a look of utter confusion and disappointment on his face. They didn't understand. They couldn't. Where their cute, little, five year old daughter once stood was a monster.

This is how I found myself orphaned.

No one wanted a psychic for a child. You may watch television shows on the subject and even take a particular interest in the occult genre at your local library, but what if you were confronted with someone that actually had more power than the average person? Could bring you to your knees with shaky sobs? The usual reaction is fear. The unknown tends to frighten people.

Every few years I was passed to another orphanage and no one would even try to talk to me. I was lonely and friendless. I soon got accustomed to the isolation. It almost suited me. I liked being alone. I didn't work well with others anyway. I became independent and learned to take care of myself.

There was a solid knock at the door. I looked up in time to watch some chipped paint fall to the floor like an autumn leaf. Ms. Tucker, the very butch woman in charge of my current orphanage, went to answer whoever was stupid enough to disrupt her television time.

At first the glare of the light from outside filled my vision and all I could see was a dark silhouette in the doorway. As my eyes adjusted I saw a muscular yet lean and stealthy looking boy standing in the house. He had long, curly blonde hair and dark green eyes. They reminded me of a deep forest. I could get utterly lost in them. He smirked when he caught me staring. I looked away. The forest can hold some frightening creatures.

When describing people like him the phrase "brightened up the whole room" may come up. This was not the case. He completely outshined the room. His personal glow overtook everything. Even the dust bunnies fled from his path. Then again they could have been blown away by the wind, since Ms. Tucker was holding the door open, like she was showing him the way out. Ms. Tucker was never good at socializing.

A flicker of jealousy crossed my mind and I thought how quickly someone like him would be picked up by a comfortable family.

"Can I help you?" Ms. Tucker didn't bother hiding her irritation. She had just been in the middle of ordering another Snuggy from an infomercial and she didn't like interruptions no matter how sexy they looked.

"Hi," he smiled. It was a bit askew but revealed a set of perfectly white teeth all the same, "I'm looking for a girl by the name of Katherine," after fishing around in his jeans pocket he pulled out a little note card, "Katherine Thistle? Brown hair, dark brown eyes, and wow! Says she's kind of short. She's like a head and a half shorter than I am, apparently."

I burned with rage. That bastard. My height was average!

Ms. Tucker was awestruck, "Kate? You want to talk to Kate?" she started laughing manically.

Wow. Okay, they're both bastards. Life's a bitch.

"Now why would you want to do that?" Ms. Tucker, forgetting about her important infomercials threw her weight onto the side of the doorway and chuckled. I felt a moment of pity for the door. Poor thing would probably have a few cracks after handling all that pressure.

"Because I'm sort of here to adopt her," his smile widened.

"You-!" Ms. Tucker was speechless, "Oh my God! Take the poor girl! Please! Finally!"

"Um… Is there paperwork to be done?"

"Paperwork? No need! No need! Just take her!" Ms. Tucker, in her rush to get rid of me, tripped as she was turning around. I thought for a moment that all her back fat had held her down and suffocated her to death when she didn't immediately get back up. She regained her footing. Damn, "Girl, pack your bag! You're moving out!"

I stood up and gaped at her. The boy by the door seemed to find my expression amusing, "Ms. Tucker! You can't be serious? I don't know him! And look at him! He's practically my age!"

"At this point you really should feel grateful anyone wants you! Now go fetch your things!"

"I can assure you that technically I'm not the one adopting you. The person I work for is. I just came to pick you up. Now run along and grab your things. I don't really have all day," he made a shooing gesture as I crept up the steps, almost as if I were a child.

Annoying guy. Stupid Ms. Tucker. It was just like her to throw some poor kid at a complete and total stranger.

I gathered my things, which turned out to be my stuffed cat and a wad of clothes that I had neglected to fold, and shoved them into an old, black, beat-up gym bag. Creeping down the stairs, I stopped at the top to listen in on the conversation the "adults" were having.

"How old is the person adopting Kate?" Ms. Tucker cautiously inquired. Maybe she just acted like she didn't care around me. Go figure.

"Hmm… If I had to guess Charlie's age, I'd say about fifty," Oh no! I was going to be adopted by some old man, who probably had a house full of cats and under aged teenagers working for him. How suspicious is that? And why is it that whenever you think of old people, a house full of cats surely follows? I pondered this as I made my way back into the room.

"Finally! Off you go then!" Ms. Tucker lifted her hand to her eyes as if she was wiping tears away. There was no way she was actually crying. She was probably just putting on a show, "I think I'm really going to miss you, Kate. Out of all the orphans, you were here the longest, you know?"

"Um. Ms. Tucker, I was the only orphan to ever live here. You even said that this place was so dingy, only the useless children who no one adopted could get sent here," I would not allow her to fake tears at our parting. She was a nasty, old woman with the temperament of an ass. I was going to make these last few seconds with her hell.

Ms. Tucker's face turned bright red, more from anger than embarrassment. She looked like a tomato. It was a very satisfying sight, "Poor child!" She squished me into a big hug, "She's so excited about finally getting adopted that she's become delusional!" So this is the end, I thought, Smothered to death in Ms. Tuckers' jelly arms.

The boy grasped my wrist and pulled me out of Ms. Tucker's meaty arms. His grip was firm but gentle, "Where she's going no one will consider her useless or delusional," his face was smiling but underneath I could feel a menacing aura just barely being hidden.

I knew it. I was going to be sold into white slavery. "Where she's going no one will consider her useless," Yeah. Because I'm going to become some skimpy-clothes-wearing servant girl. Although in my defense, I'd probably look good in the Leia duds from Star Wars.

"Anyway, Miss, I'll have my employer send in the required paper work for Katherine. Meanwhile I'll be taking her to live with him," he continued as he pulled me towards the door.

"Of course! Of course! Take good care of her, you hear?"

"Oh, I intend to."

Oh god, don't hurt me! Be gentle but honest with reviews please?