Ok so this is my first fanfic so please think about that while reading ^^ Also know that english is not my first language so there might be some place where I missed out or there is just a lack of appropriate vocabulary so I'm sorry in advance ... Hope you enjoy it !

EDIT: I went back and corrected and modified a bunch of stuff on these first chapters that I find, as I read them, absolutely horrible. I'm simply trying to make this story a little more believable and bring it to look more like it does later in the story where I feel it actually gets good. Thank you for your understanding, have fun reading !

Sarah stood in the middle of the empty room, a heavy box in her arms. Her eyes peered at the four white walls, but her mind when to the weight she carried in her arms. All that was in the box were pictures and souvenirs, a part of her from her previous life she'd felt the need to keep. Placing the box on the floor, she turned her attention to the footsteps behind her. Sarah's mother stood in the doorway, tired from the journey.

"Your bed hasn't arrived yet," her mother said in French. "Your father is trying to find a sleeping bag for you right now. Will you be okay sleeping on the floor for a couple of days?"

Sarah felt the back of her head tingle, a familiar sensation linked to her never-ending annoyance towards her mother. It was typical, really, that she would act like nothing about any of this was a big deal. Sarah bit her tongue in an attempt to scare the feeling away as well as keeping herself from saying what was on her mind.

'No, I won't be okay! I want my bed, in my room, in my house! Not this stupid castle in another town in another snobby neighbourhood. I hate this place, I hate my room, and I hate you!'

Keeping her patience, Sarah replied softly.

"Of course, mom. I'll be fine."

"I knew I could count on you," Sarah's mother said with a large smile. The disgruntled daughter forced a grin back, like she always did.

The truth behind Sarah's attitude dealt with the fact that she couldn't believe she was actually here. When her parents told her that they had to move and build another life, it hadn't seemed real. It felt like something you say you'll do, but you simply don't. The words were empty, meaningless. Unfortunately, she had been wrong. Everything they said, they meant, and within a week, she was packing for her new life.

In truth, Sarah knew she shouldn't care so much about moving. If she was being honest, she wasn't leaving much behind: no friends, no lovers, no nothing. She had been one of those shy, sweet girls who walked along the blurry crowds, blended in, but never quite fit in enough to leave a trace, better yet an impression on anybody. Not that she wanted to, really, growing up with the type of people that she did. Her mother was the embodiment of a stereotypical wealthy fashionable white woman with judgemental friends, nagging about everything and showing off their husband's money. And while she saw her father every day of her life, hiding behind his humongous watches and running away to meetings all the time, he was nothing else than a stranger.

If she could describe herself, Sarah would probably say that she was like a toy with a fabrication default. She looked the part, just like everybody else, but there was simply something that didn't quite work. Everything was just a little off. She was a little off. Her parent's solution had been to move them to another place, like their previous life was the problem.

But Sarah knew better. She was the problem. And if she was still there, and if she was still the same waste of place, the same sad excuse for a person, things would be exactly the same. Only, this time, she really wouldn't have anything to hold onto.

"What are you waiting for? You think these boxes are going to pull up their pants and come running up the stairs? Come on, hurry up!" her mother shouted in the hallway.

Sarah nodded and fallowed her mother down the stairs to help her bring the remaining boxes inside, the dark thoughts still looming in her mind.

Dark had claimed the city shortly after their arrival. All the boxes in the house were scattered in different rooms, leaving almost no space for Sarah, her mother, and father to eat their dinner. They were all standing in silence, leaning against the brand new kitchen counter, eating a cold pizza.

"I hate to say this but we should probably start unpacking the boxes right now if we want to be finished by the end of the week", her father grumbled between two bites.

"Right now? Honey, you have to be kidding, we just got here", her mother stated, her nose turned up at the thought.

Pierre rolled his eyes, not surprised at his wife's complaint. "So? A bunch of brown boxes aren't the most homely sight."

"You are unbelievable, Pierre. Is this about the house again? I spent weeks trying to find the person place for us to live in and you find a reason to complain the first five minutes of us moving in?"

"Now, sweetheart, you know that's not what I meant. I love the house," Pierre defended with a shrug.

"Are you lying to me?"

Pierre gave his daughter a confused look before he stared back at his wife, obviously surprised at the outburst.

"Did you forget to take your medication again, Denise?" he finally said, his grave tone followed by a louder answer.

"HOW DARE YOU!"

"Guys, come on, cut it out," Sarah tried, her soft voice barely making out of her mouth. She wouldn't have been surprised that no one heard her.

"Sarah, stay out of this!"

Sarah's gut started feeling heavy, anger slowly rising through her veins. Unlike most kids her age, she rather preferred when her parents ignored each other. However, she did not appreciate when they ignore her.

"You know what? I was right. This place is exactly like it was back at home. And you guys are the worst part of it."

Sarah's mother held back her ranting long enough to turn to her daughter, her face having gone from complete rage to genuine curiosity.

"What are you talking about? We did this for you, sweetie. So you could get better," her mother pleaded.

"I didn't want to be better."

With that, the young girl angrily threw the remaining pizza slice she held right to the sink and stomped up the stairs in a dramatic fashion.

Once her door was slammed for the effect, she regretted it. The barren room reminded her that she had nothing except for a thin sleeping bag in the corner.

Sarah's back helped her slide her way to the ground as she held back familiar tears. But once she reached the floor, her face was covered with them.

'You're weak,' she thought. 'You're the same old sad mess with no life and no one to love you. Why are you crying? Why don't you just toughen up, for once? Or are you going to give up like you always do? Are you going to be a coward all your life, Sarah? Are you?'

Sarah waved the thoughts away with a quick shake of her head, her eyes firmly closed, her shoulders still shaking from her crying. Exhausted from the travel and her roll coaster of emotions, the young girl prayed to fall asleep. If she slept long enough, she thought, maybe she'd wake up a different person.

The young girl eventually woke up to the sound of her parents unpacking boxes downstairs. They were arguing, how original.

Being the good daughter that she was, Sarah forced herself up, unconsciously readying herself to help them. However, right before she reached the door, she thought back to the night before, and to that little voice. Did her parents really deserve her help? More importantly, did she actually want to help them? No.

Back on her sleeping back, ignoring the discomfort from sleeping on the floor, Sarah's stare moved to her only box. In it were the very few clothes she owned, and she immediately changed into a black shirt and clean underwear, keeping on the dark blue jeans she'd had on. Once changed, she went down to see her parents.

"I need money to buy some new clothes," she stated, putting her shoes on.

Her mother looked up from the magazine she was reading. Evidently, she had concluded she needed a break after a strong fifteen minutes of unpacking. "What's wrong with the ones you already have?"

"I burned them, remember?" Sarah muttered under her breath.

"Oh, that's right. Tell me, why do you have to be so dramatic all the time?" Denise's eyes left her magazine for an instant, giving a pointed stare at her daughter.

"It suits me." Sarah forced a smile, to which her mother rolled her eyes.

"Can't imagine who she gets it from," a voice mumbled behind a pile of boxes, and Sarah's mother snapped her head towards her husband in an attempt to let him know just how she felt about that remark. Pierre, however, had found it safer to stay hidden. After a moment, Denise took a deep breath and refocused her attention to her daughter.

"Well, regardless, this whole thing is no one's making but your own. I'm sorry, my dear, but I'm going to have to ask you to care of that yourself. You're an adult now. Act like one."

Sarah, on the other hand, did not agree with her mother. "But mom, I need clothes."

"Sarah, you're eighteen years old, maybe it's time you found a job and had your own money."

"The fact that you're the one telling me this is simply gold," Sarah retorted, to which her mother squinted her eyes and angrily went back to reading her Elle magazine, flipping a page rapidly. Sarah's response was to turn to her father.

"Papa?"

"Don't you think of getting me involved in this mess, Sarah. You brought it upon yourself," he stated, his head popping up from behind a box long enough for her to see him hold a laugh and go back down.

Sarah closed her eyes, holding her anger. She violently grabbed the newspaper from the newly placed coffee table and held the Classified Ads in front of her mother.

"Fine, I'll look for a job. Are you happy now?"

Before her mother could answer, Sarah stormed out of the living room. She grabbed her father's car keys off the hook and opened the front door.

"I'm taking the car!" she yelled as she exited the house, closing the door behind her.

She sat in the driver's seat and turn on the engine, scanning the newspaper for restaurant or store ads.

Sarah didn't want to work, but her mother's bland reply told her otherwise. Her parents could care less if she had clothes on her back, and Sarah had no money herself from spending the last of her savings on a tattoo for her eighteen birthday. Luckily, within ten minutes, she found a diner with a decent salary that magically happened to be the furthest away from her house. It was worth checking out.

Half an hour later, Sarah parked her father's car in a small parking lot. The place she was visiting seemed rather small, and its name was etched in neon lights on a large sign: Ronnie's diner. The parking lot was nearly empty, though it was still somewhat early enough that Sarah didn't think much of it. Searching for those typical 'We Are Hiring' sign she was so used to see at home and finding none, Sarah wondered for a second if they still needed someone, but she figured it didn't cost anything to try anyway.

A girl sat at the counter in a waitress uniform, a bored expression splattered all over her face from the lack of customers in the diner. Sarah walked up to the other girl and gently tapped her shoulder.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I read an ad in the newspaper saying there was an open position here," Sarah told her, fumbling with the newspaper clipping in her hands. The girl looked Sarah up and down, unimpressed with the newcomer.

"So? What do you want?"

Sarah blinked once, wondering if the girl understood what she said. "Well, I was wondering if you still needed a waitress."

"I wouldn't know. You should ask the owner," the rude girl replied, finally getting off the stool. Sarah followed the girl closer to what seemed like she kitchen behind the counter but stopped before she reached the door.

"Yo, Ronnie!" the girl screamed to the back of the kitchen.

"What?" a man shouted back, and Sarah heard a creak of a door.

"There's a chick asking 'bout a job!"

Finally, a middle aged man appeared behind the door. He was tall, with curly brown hair and dark brown eyes, and he was robustly built, a contrast from her father.

"May I help you?" he asked as he came up to the two girls.

Sarah showed him the clipping from the newspaper. "I read that you need some more help, some more waitresses, I mean, but there was no sign in the window, so I was wondering if, like, you still wanted somebody, 'cause I'm looking for a job and, uh, yeah."

The other girl snorted a laugh and a shook her head, staying true to her rude demeanor.

"Of course we need more. I just can't find the help wanted sign anywhere," the owner replied with a wide smile. "I can't believe the newspaper still has this ad. I sent this a long time ago, but nobody ever came in asking for a job."

Sarah couldn't believe her luck and smiled. "Well, here I am!"

The manager nodded and looked Sarah over. He seemed quite unsure, but to be fair, he wasn't looking at the most convincing waitress, especially in this neighborhood. He could tell for a fact that she had no idea what she was getting herself into, from her shaking with nerves, darting her eyes from him to the wall. But what other choice did he have? No one else had answered his ad but her.

"Ever worked as a waitress before?"

Sarah shook her head a little too quickly. She hoped it wouldn't hurt her chances of getting the job, though she did confess, "I've never had a job before, actually."

Ronnie's face fell a little lower. Most of his staff had started working in their early teens, that's what kids did. Her accent had hinted him to it, but he was now officially convinced that this one was not from around here.

"But I'm a quick learner! I-I'm organized and very polite. I'm sure I can pull this off," she argued. Ronnie still looked at her in disbelief. "I really need this job."

He thought it over for a few quick minutes, tilting his head back and forth trying to figure out if the girl could be useful. "When can you start?"

Sarah's eyes opened wide as she smiled back. "Eum, euh, I-I can start right now!"

Ronnie laughed at her enthusiasm. "Alright, come with me, we'll fill out the papers."

Sarah fallowed the man as he lead her to the counter. "I'm Ronnie, by the way," he said as he was walking, "and this," he continued, pointing at the brown haired girl, "is Emily. She's a bitch but she grows on you."

Emily gave him a deadly stare and sat back at the stool where she had been. "Bite me, Ronnie."

The man only laugh once more. "Nah, I'm good." Sarah chuckled.

"Don't listen to him, he's an old grump who hasn't gotten laid in twenty years," Emily teased, giving him a proud grin. Ronnie shook his head and ignored the younger girl, and Sarah chuckled again.

Emily gave her a smile. "So what's your name?"

"Uh, Sarah."

"Nice to meet you, Sarah."

Ronnie took the opportunity of the small amount of customers to show Sarah around the diner, and getting Emily to teach her the ropes of waitressing. Turned out, Emily was not actually as rude as she'd first been, and Sarah surprised herself by enjoying the few hours she was spending away from home. How interesting, she thought, to be surprised positively. Knowing her luck, however, Sarah knew it couldn't possibly become a reoccurring event.

A few hours later, the diner was emptying after a very busy morning. Sarah held on for dear life to the counter as she felt Emily jump beside her.

"God, finally! I couldn't wait 'til lunch break. Wanna come outside to eat with me?" Emily smiled broadly at her, insisting to be followed outside. Of course, Sarah did just that, and the two girls sat facing each other at a picnic table once they reached the back yard to the diner, which was basically an alley.

"So, what's your story, Sarah?" Emily bluntly asked, receiving an uncomfortable look from Sarah. "Sorry, it's just too obvious that you're not from around here. Where are you from? You have a very weird accent."

Sarah let out a small laugh, half shocked and half amused at the inappropriateness of these questions. It sure wasn't something she was used to from most people she'd met.

"Canada. French is my first language," Sarah replied, growing serious. To speak the truth, she hadn't been aware that her accent was so obvious until now. She was almost disappointed now that she knew that small feat. She probably would have to explain her origins to people every single day.

"I didn't know they spoke French in Canada," Emily stated, playing with the straw in her drink. Sarah only shrugged. It felt weird to think that her culture had to be explained, like she'd expected people to know everything about it.

"Well they do. I'm originally from Quebec. It's a big thing up there."

Emily seemed impressed, and beamed from the new information. "Wow, that is so cool. Did you move recently or something?"

Sarah nodded her head and took a sip from her drink. "Yesterday."

"Shit, okay, so this is really new to you. May I ask why you went from French-Canada to Boston? I mean, it seems like such a big difference," Emily pried, hoping it wasn't a forbidden subject. Sarah hesitated for a second, understanding where the conversation was going.

"My parents are complete losers," Sarah she finally breathed out, and Emily let out a snort. "No, seriously, it's just that, well, it wasn't right where we were. It's just complicated. It's hard to explain."

"That's okay. We've just met; I understand you don't want to talk about it," Emily shrugged. Sarah smiled softly, grateful that, for once, someone understood her need not to talk about how she felt, and that she didn't simply come off as rude. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen. I'm a senior; I'll probably start school next week."

Emily's eyes brightened and leaned forward in glee. "No shit, me too! We'll go to school together, then. Well, I hope. Hell, maybe even the same classes, unless you're, like, way smarter than me."

It was two o'clock when Sarah was set free. The lunch rush was over and Ronnie figured the poor girl had done enough for her first day. Satisfied from hard work, Sarah headed to the kitchen to leave her apron before she could leave. She was pushing her way out of the kitchen doors when a strange man walked loudly in the small diner. He was tall, even taller than her stature of 5'9. Though, it wasn't the height that scared her; it was the way he presented himself. His torn, dirty jeans and washed-out leather jacket were nothing compared to his shaved head and body covered in tribal tattoos.

Sarah's stare went for the man to her new co-worker who's reaction was nothing less than surprising. Emily skipped over to the young man and jumped into his widened arms, all the while laughing like a school girl.

Sarah had to take a second to take in that information before she was able to focus on what was going on.

Emily squealed with delight and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Tommy!"

"Are ya ready to get the fuck outta this place?" he asked, ignoring the pointed stare Sarah was giving the young couple. She still failed to wrap her mind around the fact that a young girl like Emily would be interested in a hood rat.

"No, I finish at six," Emily replied, and Tommy only sighed in response. His girlfriend pouted as he shook his head, disappointed herself at his lack of patience.

Tommy, of course, voiced his opinion. "What? But baby you said you get off at 2:30!"

"Yes, on Sundays. This is Saturday, babe."

Tommy scrubbed his face and sighed again. "Fuck, man."

Smiling at the scene, Sarah finally found her legs and began to walk past the strange couple. Emily caught her eye and smiled back. "Bye, Sarah! Have a good day."

"Why she leaving and not ya?" Tommy raised an eyebrow in confusion. Emily sighed, not one bit surprised that her boyfriend couldn't keep that type of thing to himself, even if he was the one who was wrong.

"Because Ronnie told her to go."

"Why?"

"I don't know, Tommy, he just did."

"Well she probably ain't got nothin' to do. Right?" Tommy turned to Sarah who'd already stop walking.

"Well, I-I... not really, no. Why?" Sarah waited, looking at Tommy with a strange face.

"She could take your shift, so ya can spend the afternoon with me!" Tommy smiled at his bright idea. Sarah hesitated. She didn't really want to work for the rest of the afternoon, but on the other hand, she could use some more money and Emily had been really nice to her.

'Coward'.

Sarah gritted her teeth.

"Tommy! You can't ask her that. Just come back at six. Don't you have to work too anyway?"

"Nah, I'm done. And I want ya now," he replied. Emily smiled and placed her arms around his neck.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he repeated softly, lowering his head so he could give her a soft kiss.

Sarah couldn't deal with the wild man trying to win over time with his girlfriend and decided to work more hours. Emily did deserve it, at least Sarah thought so. "I don't mind taking your shift."

Emily's eyes lit up behind Tommy's broad shoulders. "Really?"

"Of course."

Emily laughed and kissed her boyfriend's lips quickly, but hard. The young man body reacted immediately and he pressed himself closer to her.

"You hear that baby? I'm all yours."

Tommy chuckled, but before he could make this situation any more inappropriate, Sarah spoke up.

"Alright! You two lovebirds can go now, I'm all good here."

Emily nearly forced herself away from her man and looked at Sarah.

"Sorry... Thank you, really. You're kinda really nice."

Emily went back to Tommy and took his hand.

"Yeah thanks, Sarah," he added with a sweet grin.

"Oh, it's nothing." Sarah let out a small smile and went back towards the kitchen to get her apron back.

"See ya tomorrow, Sarah!" Emily said before leaving hand in hand with Tommy.

"Yeah, see ya," she whispered.

As Emily left the diner, Sarah couldn't help but wonder how in the world she had managed to meet someone she actually liked this quickly. To say she wasn't particularly good with people was an understatement, and to think that she'd found someone who she was genuinely looking forward to seeing again was simply unbelievable. Yet, it was. Emily was refreshing. She didn't care about formalities and backgrounds and she didn't hold back to speak her mind. She was true. And that wasn't something Sarah had seen every often.

At six o'clock later that day, Sarah made her away towards the door of the dinner for the second time. Of course, she knew her parents would be worried that she spent the whole day away from them, but it didn't really bother her. She got a job and a friend. The job wasn't bad at all, since it wasn't stressful and the customers seemed nice. Not once did Sarah think about the move and her new life in Boston. It was just a fine, stress free day.

Once at home, Sarah realized she was alone, how surprising. It was always a great feeling to be welcomed home with an empty dark house. Sarah flipped some of the lights on, studying the empty rooms, her stomach twisting at the unfamiliarity. Displayed on the kitchen counter was a note written in her native tongue.

"At the restaurant. Be back at 10. There's nothing to eat so we left you $20 so you can order something. See you later. - M & D"

Sarah read the note once, then twice, and let out a sigh. Her parents hadn't been worried at all. Way to feel important when your parents treat you more like a burden than like a person.

Sarah put the note down and closed her eyes. Finding herself couldn't be this hard, really. Her mother had showed her how all along: what not to do when you are a parent. If she could just manage to do the exact opposite than she did, she'd probably turn out quite fine.

Thanks for reading, leave a review !