A/N: I really, really don't need to be starting another story, but I had to get this down. Sorry if you were waiting on an update on another story!

~Dawn~

"How could you do this? My own uncle, a junkie?" I remembered that as the last thing I ever said to my Uncle Jacob, as he was being arrested for possession of crack/cocaine. My uncle had raised me from when I was 3 years old, and he practically a father to me, and then I find out that almost the whole time, he was on drugs. When I was going through the house to get my most important things, I found 4 bags of drugs, in my room and the living room alone. After finding those, I just gave up; I don't know what I would have done had I found any more.

Of course, this was almost a year ago now, I'd run away the day after he was arrested—I was not going to live in foster homes—and had been by myself ever since. My name is Torie Blaike, and I am 14 years old, living on my own. I go to a new hiding place every night to keep from being found. I've met all kinds of people, from homeless people to traveling salesmen and even an up-and-coming author/artist. I've slept in so many places, from a cardboard box to under a bridge, and once in an empty dumpster.

As you see me now, I am in a grocery store, buying a package of chilled ham. This would be my lunch and dinner for that night. I was using the ten dollars I found lying on the ground to buy the ham, and I also planned to get a pair of cheap flip flops. My current ones were wearing down.

I grabbed the cold, plastic-wrapped meat and scurried to the front, trying not to draw attention to myself. That was a difficult task, since I was one of the oddest looking people you'll ever meet, homeless or not. I had bright flame-red hair, chocolate brown eyes, and a strange triangle-shaped birthmark below my left eye. I purposefully kept my eyes glued to the floor, the hood of my black jacket pulled over my head to keep me further hidden.

I set my item on the counter, grabbing a pair of orange flip flops and setting them up there too. The cashier was a young man, and he made no move to talk to me; for that I was grateful. Although, I got the feeling that he was staring at me. Not in a bad way, but just staring, almost thoughtfully. I handed him the ten and darted out of the store. I shoved several people in my path, looping under and around others.

"Wait! Please, wait; you forgot your change!" I stopped and turned to see the man.

"Keep it," I replied. He was only a few feet away now; I tried to walk away from him, but he grabbed my arm. I whirled, a glare already set in my eyes to scare him off. It didn't work, and I realized suddenly what he was staring at—my birthmark. "Yeah, I have an ugly birthmark. Want a picture? It'll last longer." The man looked like he'd been slapped.

"No, it's just that your birthmark, it reminds me of someone else. What's your name?" What the hell was this nonsense he was talking?

"Torie; I'm sure that it's just a coincidence."

"Actually, you look like him too, except your eyes. His name's Axel—here, come with me to meet him." I looked into this man's eyes; they seemed sincere enough, and I always had a knife in my pocket in case something went wrong. I followed him. "Oh and here's your change. I'm, uh, Demyx, by the way."

"Right, well, Demyx, I'm not going to run away from you. Can you let go of my arm?" I asked, and he made a small surprised noise, releasing my forearm. He brought me into the store and to the back. He stopped by the vegetables, where a tall redhead was trying to keep calm around an elderly lady.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we don't have any more watermelon than what's right here. It's not my fault they're out of season, and those are all rotten," he said, and the woman walked off with her buggy, a frown on her wrinkled face. "Geez, those old people get pissed so easily." He rubbed the back of his head.

"Hey, Axel, check this chick out." Demyx got directly to the point, catching Axel's attention. He turned to face us, and I reeled back in shock. The only difference besides our obvious height and gender difference was in the eyes. His eyes were a vivid emerald green. He also had two birthmarks, one under each eye, and identical to the one I had.

"Victoria," Axel breathed, and I tensed.

"How do you know my name?" I demanded. Who was this guy?