A/N: Hi everyone! This is my new fanfic, Picking Up The Broken Glass. In this story it's like my fics in the Things Unknown Saga never happened. This is an alternate version of how Things Unknown and its stories could've gone. As the story progresses, you'll really begin to see that it's like those stories never happened. I still hope that you'll like this story too! For those of you waiting for the conclusions of Things Unknown and You Can't Escape, don't worry. They're on their way soon. Please read, Review, and Enjoy! I like feedback!
Disclaimer: I don't own Cyberchase but Echo Glasgow is mine.
Picking Up the Broken Glass
Kawaii Stella
Chapter One
Abandoned
~Earth~
~Glasgow Family Meeting~
"You have to leave now. Bad things loom on the horizon, and for your safety you must be given up." A male elder said.
"Not safe? You all know I can fight off enemies in my sleep!" Echo retorted.
"We're well aware that you can defend your homeland," another clan elder said in her thick Scottish accent. "However, you are not even prepared to face what we fear comes this way. So for your own good your parents are relinquishing their guardianship of you."
"What!?" Echo said, shocked, as a younger clan member brought to her a few small bags pre-packed with some of her belongings.
"You may only return to this world for your schooling until it is right for you to return home. It is time for you to go."
A bright swirling portal then opened and Echo along with her belongings were sucked into it. When she fell out of it, she saw her surroundings were like those of an old western town. A female southern accented voice came from behind her.
"Here's the new arrival," the lady said. Echo looked behind her to see who appeared to be a police officer. "I'm Sheriff Judy. Come with me, Ms. Glasgow, the Judge is waiting for you."
Echo slowly rose to her feet and Sheriff Judy took her into a building with a sign that read "Sensible Flats Courthouse".
"Here she is, sis," Judy told her sister, Trudy, the judge of the small town.
The judge addressed Echo. "Echo Glasgow. You are here because your parents have given you up for adoption. You are on this Cybersite because your parents chose the orphanage here as where you will make your new home. Do you have any questions?"
"I'm almost seventeen, why must I live in an orphanage?"
"Your parents chose for you to stay here. They could've chosen to allow you to live on your own, but they didn't." Sheriff Judy explained.
"Per rules of the orphanage, you are only allowed to keep things such as clothes, toiletries, books, notebooks, and such. No electronics will be permitted unless consent is given. Possessions that have accompanied you that are prohibited will be kept in your personal vault here at the courthouse. You will be given a lockable trunk to safely store your other belongings since you will be sharing a room with four other girls. Understood?" Trudy explained.
"Yes ma'am."
"Okay."
Echo was then taken to the building at the end of the street, marked simply "Orphanage". The caretaker, Miss Abigail Truehart, met Echo at the front desk. Other orphans roamed the room yet stayed in very close cliques. They looked at Echo like she was a pile of rotten meat. Echo decided to ignore it, figuring they thought she was some kind of emotional train wreck. She stopped thinking about the other kids because Ms. Truehart began speaking to Echo in a sickeningly sweet southern accent.
"Well my stars! Aren't you the cutest little thing? You must be Miss Echo Glasgow. We've been waiting for you," She said with a small smile. "I do believe I should introduce myself before I show you around! My name is Miss Abigail Truehart and I sincerely hope we become friends! Now, we should have just enough time before supper to give you the grand tour! Follow me, Miss Echo!"
And so Echo followed Miss Abigail Truehart for the grand tour of the orphanage. However, it could hardly be called grand. In truth, the orphanage was a rundown dump. They went through every corridor and into every room. Echo was shown the girls' corridor and the boys', the outdoor "fun area" as Truehart put it, the bathrooms, kitchen, dining room, and living room. She was shown her room, room F, and given the key to her trunk where she stored her belongings under the ever watchful eye of Ms. Truehart. At last they re-entered the main lobby, which, Echo assumed, was probably where most of the funding the orphanage got went, because it was a thousand times better than the rest of the place.
". . . and that is the grand tour!" Ms. Truehart concluded. "I know it will take a bit of getting used to, but you'll figure it out. Dinner will be in five minutes and remember you may sit anywhere you like, Echo." Truehart then left for the kitchen.
Echo decided to go sit in the vacant chair in the far corner while she waited. As she walked across the room, one of the boys sneered, "What kind of a freak name is Echo?"
Echo wisely chose to ignore the "freak" part of the boy's comment. This boy appeared to be very arrogant at about fifteen years of age. He had blonde hair and eerie blue eyes.
"Echo is my name. Do you have a problem with that?"
"As a matter of fact I do. I, like the rest of us here, are what your world would call, well, just near perfect. I can tell that with your hippie name that you won't fit in here at all. So you'd be better off just running away to die."
"No one is perfect. I didn't come here of my own will. Trust me. I wouldn't be here if I had a choice. Who said I wanted to fit in anyway? Be civil with me and I'll do likewise."
Before Echo could lose her temper, Ms. Truehart called all the children to dinner. Echo was one of the last to enter the dining hall. When she got her tray of not too shabby looking food, Echo saw that she was correct in her hunch that these people had tightly knit cliques. There was only one chair left at a desolately deserted table. That lonely table was where Echo sat by herself. She listened to a group of girls who sat in front of her. Their words were not kind in the least. Their words were like swords. Echo needed no names to know exactly who they spoke of. Her.
From a young age Echo had learned how to keep a good poker face. Echo knew quickly that she would use her poker face a lot here. She finished her meal and quietly slipped from the hall. If anyone asked, she would say that she was tired and had had a long day.
Echo went to her room and sat on her bed. It was old and hard, but at least not squeaky. Before she could even get a notebook from her trunk, the ever noisy Truehart popped her curly brown haired head in the door.
In her sickly sweet accent she said, "Are you alright, sweetie?"
"Yes ma'am, I'm fine; just tired." Echo responded.
"You're so proper! That's adorable! I understand that you're tired. Why don't you go get in the shower first so you can relax? But first I need to take an identification photo of you."
"Alright." So Echo got her picture taken then grabbed her bath things and took her shower, feeling only the slightest bit relaxed. She went back to room F and climbed onto her bed with a notebook and pencil from her trunk. Absentmindedly she began to sketch, not even thinking about what she drew. By the time she was starting to darken the outline of her sketch, her four roommates entered the room laughing shrilly. They stopped in the doorway and became silent as they saw Echo sitting in her pajamas with her red hair pulled up into a ponytail. What struck them silent was that Echo was drawing. Echo was so enveloped in her art that she didn't even notice the girls enter. The foursome didn't like that at all. They demanded attention.
"AHEM!" One girl all but bellowed, spooking Echo. "Now that I have you attention," the girl, about 16, said snottily. "Since you are new here and obviously naïve, I will give you a few, generous, pieces of advice. The first bit is who we are. I am Samantha Goldburg. These are my besties Emma, Alice, and Dior. Don't even bother telling is your name. We already know of you, Echo, and even if we didn't, we wouldn't care. Secondly, don't think you'll fit in here. This is OUR territory. You just stay in your own little bubble thingy. Don't talk to us unless we speak to you. Got it?"
"Fine with me. I don't like to speak with airhead snots anyway." Echo said testily, her Scottish accent showing through.
"Airhead snots? You have a lot of nerve to talk to us like that, you… you no good piece of foreign trash! We are the most amazing and most fashionable people here! Talk to us like that and regret it!" Emma screeched.
Echo was losing her temper fast, and, for someone who had fought as many wars as she had, that was an extremely bad thing. "You don't look fashionable at all to me. I've been to fashion week. I know fashion. And I ain't afraid of twigs like you!"
They all heard Truehart coming down the hall for bed checks, so they calmed down for the moment being. Echo no longer had any desire to draw. She put her stuff in her trunk and locked it. She wasn't about to take any chances with these girls.
After lights out Echo had calmed down considerably, even though after Truehart had come and gone, Dior had remarked, "This isn't over yet!" Echo thought that she was just talking trash. Boy, Echo regretted that thought. Almost fifteen minutes after lights out, Echo felt pressure on her legs. Someone was holding her down. She tried to fight back but then two more sets of hands held her shoulders down.
A voice, unmistakably Samantha's, growled, "How dare you speak like that to us! You're going to pay, you Irish piece of junk. Don't you even think about squealing either!"
Echo only had time to think the words, "I'm Scottish, not Irish!" Before she felt a number of sharp punches hit across her back and sides. She lifted her head to protest but one of the girls shoved a washcloth into her mouth to keep her quiet.
For almost ten minutes she was punched and jabbed relentlessly all over her body except for her face. Finally the girls tired and went to bed. Echo spat out the washcloth then curled up under her comforter. She was in so much pain. As she fell asleep, Echo desperately prayed she wouldn't be here long. Then, her world went black.