… Allison …

When someone says they love you they are supposed to care about you. They would do anything for you- be anything for you. The person is supposed to give you the world on a golden platter, making sure you are always happy. But, sometimes love doesn't work out; it dies or fails or sometimes people change and want different things in life. It's not supposed to happen, but somehow it does. People are hurt in the process- some for the better and some for the worse. I haven't decided what to think about my situation, yet. I suppose for the worse, but I am still young. Anything can happen in the future. Maybe this time I will actually find out where I belong.

O.o.O

I was sitting on a large Greyhound bus watching the raindrops pound on the windows. No one was on the bus except for me and an elderly woman up near the front, but I clutched onto my large purple duffle bag in fear that someone would come up and take it- or at least look inside of it and see all of the stolen merchandise I had taken from various stores.

I used to not be a bad girl. My Momma had told me stealing was a bad thing when I was just a little girl. She used to sit me on her lap and say, "Allison, I told you never, ever steal from that cookie jar because soon you are going to get into trouble with the law, little diamond. Soon you are going to be taking stuff from stores and the cops are going to get you." After that I would usually start to cry and tell her I was sorry and didn't want the cops to get me. But, that was before Momma had what the doctors assumed was a heart attack from stress. I never believed them because Momma didn't work or anything. She collected Social Security money from the government and told me she was starting to get bored with her lonely life; that was why she adopted me. I don't think I ever stressed her out. I never asked her for expensive toys or caused trouble. I loved her with all my heart, and even when the kids at Kindergarten teased me about her being old enough to be my Grandmother, I was always happy with her being my Momma; after all, being fifty years old wasn't that old.

I was five when she died and was immediately put in foster care. I remember most of the families, but after going through thirty nine families in eight years they all became a little jumbled. There were a few that I could have lived happy lives with, but when the time came for them to choose to adopt me or let me move to a different foster family they always chose to let me go. I was always sad to leave a nice family, but I knew I had become a high maintenance child ever since Momma died, so I couldn't blame them for wanting to get rid of me. Then there were the families that I would spend less than a month with and run away back to the foster care place begging for a different family.

Now I was done looking for a better family in New Hampshire. The last family I had pushed me away for good. I thought they were ok at first, but I still had a weird feeling about them; my foster Mother, Susan, seemed like a kind women and my foster Father, Greg, smiled and joked around often. They had a son two years younger than me, Jayden, and he was nice for the first week. Then they started getting mean. If I even looked at Greg a weird way he would slap my face. Susan never physically hurt me, but she said some pretty emotionally damaging things to me. Jayden ruled the house, basically; his parents catered to his every wish. If he didn't want me to do something I couldn't do it, or I would risk getting beaten by Greg. I tried to avoid him at all costs, but when he was trying to be very malicious he would hunt me down and tell me I wasn't allowed to eat dinner. The only good things they would do for me is get all my medication prescriptions that I had accumulated over the years from the pharmacy and pay for my cell phone bill.

"Miss this is the last bus stop," the stout driver called to me shaking me out of my daydream. I honestly had no idea where I was getting off at. I didn't even know if I was still in New Hampshire. I had just kept getting on buses and getting off at the farthest stop.

I slung my large duffel bag over my shoulder and trudged up to the front of the bus. I fished for the money in my pocket for the ride, but the man shook his head.

"It is ok sweetie, this one's on me," he said and winked.

"Thanks," I said pulling my hood over my head as he opened the bus doors. It was still pouring outside, and I didn't want to get wet. I would have given him the money, I just pretended like I was having trouble finding it to see if he would let me get off for free. I had hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars in my duffle bag stolen from my various foster families over the years just in case something like this would happen. Then, I had taken all of Jayden's money that was saved to buy him a new flat screen television set (900 dollars) and money saved to take the whole family- excluding me of course- to a whole trip around Europe (8,000 dollars) as the price they had to pay for abusing me for the three months I was not able to escape their harsh treatment. Technically, I was a somewhat rich homeless girl, but that didn't mean that I wouldn't try to get free things when I could.

As I walked off the bus my stomach started growling. I looked through my duffel bag trying to find a bag of chips or a granola bar just to get by until I could find a hotel room to order room service. The time on my cell phone read 6:35 so I knew it was getting late. I sighed as I couldn't find anything to snack on in my bag.

I looked around the surrounding area and there was a gas station nearby. I figured it wouldn't hurt to buy a bag of chips and a soda. Maybe I would even ask where I was, but I highly doubted it. I definitely wasn't a people person and I tended to be able to read their emotions and tell if they were good people or not. That kind of freaks me out because I have never been wrong. I should have listened to my feelings when I first met my previous [and hopefully last] foster family, but I didn't and look where that got me.

I walked across the street into the gas station and breathed a sigh of relief as many people were flocking the gas pumps and there seemed to be many people inside. It would be easier to steal something then actually have to wait in line and pay for it. No one even seemed to notice as I walked in with my large purple duffel bag. You would think someone would say something about a suspicious girl carrying a duffel bag, but they paid no attention to what I was doing.

I walked along the aisles and dumped all kinds of things in my bag like gum, candy, bags of chips, bottles of soda, and even a few hotdogs from the snack counter. I nearly laughed at how easy it was to take everything, when someone roughly grabbed my shoulder.

I turned around and looked up at the man and gulped. He had an Exxon worker's name tag that said John on it, and I could feel the anger permeating out of him. I didn't know what to do- I doubted he would let me just put everything back and call it a day. I glanced quickly to the door and noticed I had a clear shot if I ran- so that is exactly what I did. It caught him off guard, but after a few moments he was running after me down the streets on his cell phone, probably calling the cops.

A rush of fear coursed through my body. If I got caught by the police I would get sent to Juvenile Detention- or worse, get put back into the foster care system that I had just broken out of. If Greg and Susan were looking for me, which they probably were due to the stolen money, I could get put into their care again. If they decided to adopt me, after the care time was up, I would probably die of unhappiness; if I wasn't abused to death first.

I could hear the police sirens behind me, so I got out of the street and ran closer to the buildings. I had a better chance if the cops were running after me then driving me down with their cars.

I don't know how long I ran for, but it was dark out and the rain had long since stopped falling. The policemen were still chasing me; now down a dirt road surrounded by tall trees of a forest. I could hear voices shouting every so often, and their flashlights created shadows along the trees. It scared me, and I was out of breath, but I still kept running. I couldn't get caught; I would not let my freedom be so short lived. Unfortunately, it was up to my lungs and legs, not my brain.

I was starting to slow down as my legs started turning to jelly and my lungs felt like they were going to burst. My duffel bag suddenly gained one hundred pounds, and I struggled to keep going. Tears streamed down my baby blue eyes, as I knew this was going to be the last few moments I had before my happiness would be taken away once more. Still, I was determined to keep running until I passed out or my legs stopped working.

My heart nearly broke as I felt myself stumbling to the ground. I tried to get back on my feet, but a wave of nausea swept over me, and I couldn't breathe or move my jelly legs. I closed my eyes as the policemen came towards me and prayed that they would stop running and turn back before they saw me lying in the road.

I knew they were close I could hear the thumping of feet near my ears. I opened my eyes and saw them standing there a foot away from where I laid on the roadside.

"It's a dead end. She must have slipped into the trees or something," one of the poilcemen

"She's as good as dead anyways in there," another cop said.

I watched in confusion as they all turned back and walked in the direction in which they had all just come from. There was not a dead end. I turned my head and looked behind me thinking maybe they just didn't see me and there was a dead end behind me. I could see the road and lights up ahead, meaning there was a town nearby. I slowly tried to get up and wobbled when I finally made it into a standing position. Hesitantly, I walked down the road to the town.

Every shop was dark and looking at my phone I found out it was 12:10 in the morning. I couldn't have been running for almost five and a half hours. Maybe I had read my phone wrong, or taken quite a long time pondering if I wanted to go to the gas station. Either way I didn't really care. I just needed to find somewhere to sleep- anywhere would do as long as it wasn't on the ground.

I walked down the street a little farther and found a bench. There were no cars moving through the street and it was eerily quiet. I shrugged and set my bag down on the bench, sighing. I pulled out my baby blanket that I always slept with, out of the bag, and cradled it in my arms. I sat down and curled my legs up so they wouldn't be hanging off the edge. Using my bag as a pillow, I fell asleep.

O.o.O

I woke up to the chatter of people talking and just the bustle of town life. Surprisingly no one was staring at me; maybe they were just too busy to notice a homeless looking girl sleeping on a bench. I sat up and looked around at the shops trying to see if I could find somewhere to eat breakfast or a somewhere to stay for the night. It was quite odd that the only restaurant on the street was Granny's Diner; not a McDonalds or Wendy's in sight. I had never been to a diner before (heck, I was lucky if I could eat at a fast food restaurant), so it kind of made me nervous at first. Maybe diners were only for people with families. I only pondered what to do for a second before my stomach decided for me; I was going to eat at Granny's diner, or at least I was going to try anyways.

When I walked through the doors, a smile immediately formed on my face. The place was just so cute and, it reminded me of Momma, sort of. She would have liked to go to a homely place such as this diner. The only thing that was weird about it was there was an aura of tension and dislike that permeated throughout the place. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I walked in a few steps and everyone's eyes seemed to be on me. There was a man with blonde hair and pretty blue eyes sitting with a brown haired boy who looked to be a few years younger than me staring at me with a mixture of shock or confusion; they were probably cousins or brothers. A scary man with a cane smirked at me and the pretty chocolate haired girl he was with looked at me with wide eyes. Everywhere I looked there were people staring at me; even the skinny dark haired waiter stopped taking a few short men's orders to stare at me. I didn't like this kind of attention, so I tried to scope out a secluded table for myself. Unfortunately, all of the empty tables were surrounded by other tables with people.

I looked around the room once more and noticed all of the seats by the counter were not taken, except for one. The person sitting in the seat by the counter, oddly, was not staring at me. It was like she was oblivious to the whole room watching me. I decided sitting by one person was better than sitting by a whole bunch of people staring at me, so I walked up to the counter and took a seat next to the woman.

I looked at the woman up and down. She was elegantly beautiful, with dark curls that framed her face and warm brown eyes. Her skin was pale and flawless and she sat with such poise and grace. Her clothing was expensive and she really knew how to dress nice. The only flaw she had was her head hung down slightly, so slight you might not have even noticed, with sorrow. I hadn't even known I was really staring, until she looked at me and smiled. Before I could apologize, a kind faced old woman handed me a menu.

"Thank you," I said politely, and the woman nodded and smiled at me. She went over to the lady next to me and her kind demeanor changed into visible hatred as she poured more coffee into the woman's cup.

"People are sure weird in this town," I said, voicing my opinions out loud. The woman next to me smiled.

"Why is that, dear?" She said.

"It's just that the people here seem kind of judgmental, and that woman doesn't like you. I can just tell," I said, not wanting her to be offended but, wanting to tell her the truth for some reason.

"Oh, believe me, dear, here is a word of advice. If you don't fit in they all will tear you apart. No one in this town likes me, except maybe one. I'm the Mayor," She said through gritted teeth.

"Make that two," I said and smiled. Her eyes were full of shock. "My name is Allison, and well, I suppose my last name is still Blake. So, yeah, my name is Allison Blake."

"Regina Mills," she said looking at me curiously.

"Regina means queen. Did you know that? Allison means nobility," I said.

She smiled and nodded at me, "I know, dear." Believe me I know…

I was going say something, when the old woman came back and asked me what I wanted.

"Apple pancakes," I said and she looked at me in horror, but scurried off before I could say anything.

"Is there something wrong with them, Ms. Mills?" I asked, starting to get worried that they had gone bad or something.

"Of course not, Allison. It's just that the only person in town who actually eats them is me," She said getting lost in thought. I thought I might have seen a tear forming in her eye when she looked at me, but it was probably just my imagination.

Granny, the old lady behind the counter, gave me my pancakes and I ate them in silence. Regina Mills sipped her coffee every few minutes, not looking at me, and I was glad she was giving me some privacy to eat. When I was done, Granny handed me a check, and I took out one of my wads of cash, pulling out a ten dollar bill.

"Is there a reason why you have so much money, dear?" Regina asked, thoughtfully. Normally, I would have lied to anyone else who asked, but there was just something about her that made me feel like I could trust her. I felt safe sitting next to her, like nothing would happen to me when she was near.

"I, um, accumulated it from my different foster families throughout the past few years, and I'm done flitting from family to family. I ran away from my foster family a few days ago, and I am never going back. That's kind of why I ended up here. You aren't going to take me to the police are you?" I said getting fearful that maybe I was too quick to judge what she was going to do.

Regina shook her head, her dark curls bouncing, "Do you need a place to stay for a few days? Her eyes were hopeful, as if she was begging me by only using her eyes to ask. "Just until you decide what you are going to do, of course."

"Yeah, sure, I guess," I blurted out without even thinking.

Her lips curled into a genuine smile, and she grabbed my hand leading me to the door. If I wasn't so level headed, I would have actually believed the doors to the diner had flown open with magic.

O.o.O

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