Little bit of a notice: This fic is mainly based around my own character for the show 'Foster's home for imaginary friends'. In fact, I had started a story about her ages ago on my old account. Unfortunatly I never really got around to it again and over time, I began developing the character a lot more. I've finally decided to have another go at writing a fic aout her. I love this show to death and anything related to the show, which is why i'm scared it'll be kind of rubbish, so if I could have any reviews on how to improve that would be greatly appreciated. I'm mostly writing this for fun and because it's been on my brain for a while now. So here you go. First chapter, hope you enjoy it.

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Chapter 1: Arrival

Upon first glance at the tall, old mansion, she of course stared up in awe despite the the cruel winters teeth biting at her dark navy blue skin. Ignoring the chilling breeze she stood in front of the open gates looking up at the building, stood in it's morning shadows. She could feel her heart beating loudly as she swallowed down a lump of fear rising in her throat, but hid her fear behind a glare.

The sign not far from where she stood on the pavement read 'Fosters home for imaginary friends'. Without moving her head she glanced at the sign and quietly read it over again, seeming to inspect it carefully as though she may have missed something, or as though to confirm something. She then glanced back up to the house silently contemplating how quick to the point such a title was. Although given how fustratingly confusing and vexing the world had been so far for her, it was nice to see a straight answer.

A home for imaginary friends like her, lost, without a home, abandoned. She had heard about this place not long ago. Just the other day in fact. It had been a week, a whole, slowly moving week. She remembers swiping left over food from tables outside resturants to keep herself alive, but she had never eaten much anyway, so she convinced herself she'd be fine. The weather -predictably for winter- was rubbish, with light drizzles of rain and chilling winds. She often found refuge beneath doorways or bus shelters untill the rain stoped, however there wasn't much to do about the winds except cuddle herself and rub her arms to create some form of heat for herself. She had expected to catch something, but thankfully, she hadn't... Yet. No. She was going to see through this. She was tough, she could make it.

She constantly pushed back the voice trying to reason against her stubborness. The voice which she knew was right but never listened to. She hated feeling weak and defencless. No. She didn't hate it, she despised it. Loathed it in fact. She knew the weak were pushed about like toys, stepped on like rugs and she knew how horrible it felt, so she'd be damned if she'll let anyone walk over her again, or even allow it to happen toanyone else maybe?

Maybe if she ever met a push over like she had once been, she'd show them, tell them that it's the worst thing they could be. She'd know where they stood and how they felt and she's be there to drag them out. Maybe then she could feel proud of herself for once?

She had these thoughts buzzing through her mind, as she sat on a doorstep beneath the door frame to keep out the rain, which was beating down harder than it had been the days it had rained before. It had been a week and yet, she was was still dazed, confused and- though she was ashamed to admit it- scared. She had felt enraged when the insident first occured, but it had eventually bubbled down to simple anger which had mainly been pushed to the back of her due to the instinct of survival. It was at times like this, when she allowed herself to ease her mind for a while, that the anger and memory would resurface.

She had been staring at the pavement when a pair of womens shoes entered her sight. She eyes never left the ground as the woman spoke, asking if she was lost, if she needed help and that she knew a place she could take her that was specifically for friends like her. When the friend didn't respond, the woman sighed sadly and began to walk away.

She had been listening, but mostly thinking. The voice told her to answer, accept the offer, a place you can be safe for crying out loud! Of course she had an inner conflict about accepting help like a weakling and being a total idiot. At one point the voice became angrier, cursing and snarling for her to 'quit being a stubborn jerk' to put it nicely. Yes, that was rather nice considering everything else being said in her mind. Then the woman mentioned how she could find a new family there as well. Her mind immediatly went into the negative as she thought of her creator. That had gone swimmingly. that was why she was here hiding in the rain, scrammbling around for bits to survive on. Who's to say the next family- considering if she even went to this place- wouldn't be just as bad? Or worse even... She even conflicted about how she would be the worse friend to adopt, considering her rather... Colourful... sense of volcabulary. But maybe they'd understand that? Maybe she could still have a place to stay? Maybe if only for a little bit...

She noticed the woman leaving. Within half a second her decision snaped. She called for the woman who turned to her. She asked where abouts the home was, so she could think on it.

Now here she stood. After sleeping on it by the doorway then getting shooed away by the house owner like an animal, she had decided with that final push that she would stay at fosters.

...If they let her.

She took a step forward, keeping her expression fixed into an emotionless glare. She had been glaring and frowning a lot since this all began. It seemed to be a good expression to use to hide anything else she may have been feeling. In this case: Fear.

Unmistakeably, no one liked rejection it was just some had more confidence to hide the pain than others. She had confirmed to herself it was better to look strong than weak.

She walked up to the large doors. She gulped gently, quielty reminding herself to keep a check on her language and manners. She then raised a finger to the doorbell. Her finger paused inches away as she conflicted the possibility of being thrown back out into the streets. It was a foster home for imaginary friends without homes, why would they throw them back out?

Though she continued to confirm this to herself, it didn't bring her finger any closer to the bell. It took a minute before she swallowed down her pride and her finger pressed against the bell.

The brought her hand away as though she had touched something revolting, and almost looked as though she was considering running. She let out a deep sigh, folding her arms over her flat chest, gently gripping the sleeves of her baggy white shirt which was loosly tucked into her brown baggy jeans on her right while the rest hung loose to her mid-thigh, her jeans covered most of her black trainers except the tip. Her feet seemed to root into the ground as she grumbled to ehrself.

"You're doing this, stupid." She grummbled under her breath, her voice was somewhat deep, but still had a feminine touch to it. "You back away now and you won't last another week out there. You'll get sick, fall over and die." She cringed slightly at the mention of death, evidentaly not a fan of the idea.

After a moment passed, the door still hadn't been opened and she felt a familiar rise of irritation in her chest. She pressed the bell again. Twice.

She heard a muffed yell from the other side of the door. Most likely someone telling her that she was coming. She back away from the door nervously, but kept a straight face.

The door was opened by a young woman with bright red hair tied into a pony tail, shorter than the figmant standing outside. She looked upwards and smiled.

"Oh hi. You must be a friend looking for a place to stay, huh?"

Oh, it was so tempting to break out a sarcastic line of 'Nah, I just felt like knocking for the heck of it' but of course she silenced her slef and gave a gentle nod instead.

"Well, you'd better come in then." She stepped back into the house, holding the door open, directing for the imaginary friened to come in. She quickly stepped in through the doors, briefly stopping to wipe her feet on the rug before entering deeper into the house. She was immediatly captivated by the sight. Huge stairways, increadibly high ceiling, amazing design in general. She felt unworth to even be here. Did she even deserve it?

"Can you talk?" She turned to the woman as she shut the door and nodded.

"Yeah. Just not much around people I don't know." She knew for a fact that she didn't like setting a wrong example when she met new people. Problem was, she never liked getting comfortable around them because that's when the grouchy, snappy and far more rude side of her personallity would show itself.

The woman smiled at her. "Oh, alright. Well, welcome to foster's. I'm Frankie foster. What's you're name?"

The friend was hesitant before she replied. "Amy."

Frankie smiled. "It's nice to meet you Amy. I'm sure you'll be very happy here." Amy allowed herself to give a small smile.

"Anyways, if you could step this way, mister herriman will fill out your form and hopefully we can give you a quick tour to your room before lunch."

Amy nodded, as she followed Frankie to the room just the the side of the hall. "Okay."

Both entered to see the imaginary bunny friend behind the desk, scribbling something down onto a sheet of paper with a feather pen. The grey and white rabbit wore a black top-hat, monocle, a black tuxedo coat over a yellow vest and white gloves, which gave Amy a tad guess at his character.

He glanced up as Frankie spoke. "Mr. H. There's a new friend here." He placed his pen down and stood.

"Ah, so I see. What is you're name madam?"

"...Amy." She stated.

"Miss Amy. Well if would kindly take a seat so we can fill out you're form and then miss Francis will show you to your room before breakfast. After breakfast I will ensure that a proper tour of the house is given to you. Do you have any objections to this?"

She frowned slightly, shaking her head. "I don't, no."

He nodded. "Excellent." He rummaged through a draw, quickly pulling out a mustard coloured form. "Well, If you could just fill this out we may get started." Amy was handed the sheet which she glanced over before recievig the pen.

Maybe this wouldn't be too bad...

But She decided against making assumptions.

Hopefully to be continued, if people like it so far ;)