I felt the cool wind blow through my hair as the harmful rays of the sun beat down on me causing sweat to layer up on the surface of my skin. I watched as little kids ran around the playground, and joggers running around the park while mothers tried to get their babies to stop crying. It was all fascinating to me, peaceful even. I liked watching men and women scurry off to work for some kind of meeting, kids having fun while they played, mothers helping their children, dogs and their owners playing catch, the ducks just relaxing in the pond. It was peaceful.

Today wasn't peaceful though, these past weeks haven't been peaceful. It has been almost a month since I hid under my bed while I watched my mom get stabbed to death and from the torture I had encountered after I watched the life leave my mother's eyes; she was staring at me while he kept stabbing her, her eyes silently pleading for me to keep quiet until he left.

That didn't happen though, he left the room, and I waited, then climbed over my mother's dead body and ran down the stairs. I didn't see him waiting down stairs as his arms closed around me dragging me into the basement and chaining my arms above my head so I was hanging from the ceiling. My arms were hurting as they tried to carry my weight, the metal cuffs digging into my skin while he ran the knife soaked in my mother's blood down my chest just enough pressure the cut my shirt open with.

I couldn't make out what he was saying there was only a little light bulb hanging from the ceiling in front of my giving the room an eerie glow as it swung from side to side. The man was wearing a mask, and dressed in a black hoodie with black jeans and combat boots. I felt darkness creeping on me as I felt him beat me and stab me multiple times, I could feel him carve things into my skin then either slap me or punch me across the face and choking me. Finally, I gave in to the darkness; I gave in to the clutches of unconsciousness the pain leaving me.

I was startled out of my memory as I felt Mrs. Anderson - my social worker - shake me out of the memory.

"Are you alright, Jane?" She asked me quietly concern evident in her voice

I looked up at her nodding my head quickly before staring at the ground. She sighed before taking a seat beside me; she was staring at me, waiting for me to give her my full attention. So I did.

"We managed to find your biological father. He lives in Beacon Hills, California. His name, Derek Hale, was on your birth certificate, I will be going to Beacon Hills to meet him and tell him about you and all that's happened. We aren't sure if he even knows about you; your mother may have never told him."

She found him? She found my father? Mom lied to me! She told me he was dead! Why would she lie to me?

Anger was boiling up inside me at the fact that my own mother lied to me about my father. Mrs. Anderson looked at me, "Jane, everything okay?"

I shrugged at her

"Would you like to see what he looks like? You look just like him, but in a 14 year old girl version" She smiled at me

I nodded my head eagerly this time. She hand me a picture of a tall man with dark hair and aggressive eyes. He was well built, but he looked like he hasn't smiled in ages. He did look like me, and I looked like him. This was definitely my father.

"You two have a lot in common you know?"

My face showed confusion now, "When he was about a couple years older than you. He and his sister, Laura, watched their families get burned alive as their home went up in flames." My face was showing horror then.

How awful!

"Now, you have a choice – you can either stay here while I go visit your father, you can come with me and stay at the motel while I visit him, or you could go with me and actually meet him when I do. Choice: 1, 2, or 3"

I raised my hand slowly lifting up three fingers.

"Excellent!"

We had just got to our hotel room in Beacon Hills when the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I am going to meet my father. I am actually going to meet him. I hope he likes me, please let him like me, please. I silently pleaded in my head.

"Have you taken your medication yet, Jane?"

I shook my head. I hated taking pills, but if I ever wanted the swelling on my throat to go away so I could possibly get my voice back, then I guess I'll just have to suffer.

I grabbed the pill bottle the doctor had given me before taking one, swallowing it down with water, wincing when pain shot through my throat making tears wield up in my eyes.

It was a little after twelve when we got in the car to go to my father's house out in the woods. I loved the woods, they were peaceful. When we got there I shrunk down my seat hiding my face, "Do you want to stay in the car, Jane?"

I nodded my head slowly while sliding down farther in my seat as a built boy a little older than me came out of the house. I heard Mrs. Anderson get out of the car, she had left the windows rolled down, and so if I listened hard enough I could hear what she was saying.

"Hi there, I'm Mrs. Anderson. I was wondering if Derek Hale was here." She said I could hear the smile on her face.

The boy looked at her before nodding, "My names Scott McCall. He's hear let me get him for you." He said before running inside. He came back a minute later with the man in the picture. I felt myself shrink to the car floor my breathing caught in my throat making him look straight at me. I peeked over the dash our eyes meeting; my eyes went wide and so did his.

"Hi Mr. Hale, I'm Mrs. Anderson. I was wondering I could have a word with you for a moment." She said reaching her hand out for him to shake.

He shook her hand hesitantly, "What about?" He said

"Do you know of a woman named Katherine Bennet?"

"Yes, I did." He sounded angry now for simply bringing up her name.

"Mr. Hale, are you aware that Ms. Bennet had just recently passed away? Or that she left behind a daughter, a daughter who has resemblance to you and with your name listed as the father on her birth certificate?"

His eyes went wide looking at the car before resting them back on Mrs. Anderson, "No, I was not aware she had passed or left behind a daughter." He sounded surprised now, the angry leaving his eyes. "What happened to Katherine?"

My breathing caught in my throat as Mrs. Anderson told him everything.

"She was murdered. Jane was at the movies with her friend when the murderer got there. When Jane came home she wasn't aware of what was happening and went to her room when she heard a scream before hiding under her bed where she watched her mother gets stabbed to death right in front of her."

"Was she harmed, Jane I mean."

Mrs. Anderson was silent a moment before replying, "When Jane tried to get away he grabbed her from behind dragging her to the basement where he had set up chains. He hung her to the ceiling where he beat her, raped her. She's doesn't have any broken bones. He did stab her in the abdomen twice, before choking her to where she went unconscious. She has severe swelling in her throat, so she can't talk for a while the doctors are worried she may not recover her voice when the swelling goes down."

"Who found her?" His voiced changed from surprised to anger and pained.

"She left her coat in her friend's car when her friend and her friend's father dropped her off. The father rang the doorbell, heard her scream, and he saved her." She said, "Mr. Hale were you not aware you aware you had a daughter?"

"Katherine never told she was even pregnant. How old is she?"

"Fourteen, Mr. Hale." She said, "I have her in the car if you would like to see her. You are aware that you are the only living relative she has now, right? I came here today to see if you wanted her, if not just say so and she will be put in foster care."

"I'll take her; I don't want her to go into foster care. May I see her?"

"Certainly Mr. Hale try and ask her yes or no questions though, or give her 3 choices so she can choose one she wants to do."

I watched as Mrs. Anderson walked toward me as seven other teenagers came out of the house standing by Scott, I think his name was, and my father. Mrs. Anderson opened the door holding out her hand for me to take. Hesitantly I took it letting her lift me out of the car slowly not to rip my stiches out. I kept my head down as we started walking towards the group my hair hiding my face as I put an arm around my stomach gently. I adjusted the bandage on my throat gently.

"Jane say hello to Mr. Hale." Mrs. Anderson said as we stopped in front of the group of people. I could see their shoes at little.

I lifted my head slowly watching as one girl with curly brown hair gasped at the sight of my bruised face. I had a black eye, a split lip, and cuts on my cheek and forehead. I looked at everyone's face before lifting my hand waving slightly.

"Mr. Hale this is Jane, your daughter."

"Hello Jane" He said smiling slightly

I smiled a small smile at that, wincing when the cut on my lip stretched.

"Jane, Mr. Hale told me he would take you in. How does that sound?"

I simply nodded at her.

I drummed my finger on my side as my arm kept over my stomach. I watched as the boy with the dark brown hair smile at me as I drummed my fingers.

"I have papers for you to sign, Mr. Hale if we could please talk somewhere more private?"

I saw him nod before leading her in to the house. I watch her give me a reassuring smile before following him.

"Your names Jane, right?" The boy named Scott asked, before receiving a head slap from the brunette head girl.

"Of course it is, dumbass, the woman only said her name a million times." The brunette girl said before turning towards me, "Hi I'm Allison; this is Scott, my boyfriend. Don't mind him he is a little slow." She said smiling at me.

I wanted to laugh at that.

"My names Erica" I tall girl with long curly blonde hair said. She had on little too revealing clothes on.

"I'm Isaac" The boy beside her said. He looked shy and innocent. Definitely has a dark past.

"Boyd" The tall boy said. He doesn't seem to talk much.

"Hi, I'm Lydia and this is my boyfriend Jackson." A girl with strawberry blonde hair said while hugging on to a blonde guy who looked too overly cocky.

"And lastly I am Stiles. No, that is not my real name and no I am not saying my real name out loud." The dark brown haired boy said to me before holding his hand out.

I was debating whether or not to take it; finally, I lifted my arm away from my stomach before grasping his hand lightly shaking it before putting it back over my stomach quickly.

I saw him smile at me quickly; I had to smile back too.

I ignored the pain in my lip as I smiled back.