A/N: So this has been bothering me, and I couldn't get it out of my head. So, I finally wrote it out. Yeah, I know that you're mad I haven't updated my other stories, but with my AP homework and honors classes, I haven't really had time. I'm sorry! I promise that I will update them as soon as I can. Anywho… This is a little different for me, so you guys have to tell me how you like it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, or any of the characters you recognize. If you don't recognize them, they come from my wonderful imagination. Hah… Wonderful… anyways, on with the story.
Kyra sighed as she looked out at the bleak tarmac of Seattle airport from the airplane window. It was raining. She closed her green eyes and leaned back in her chair, wincing as her ponytail dug into the back of her skull.
Kyra normally loved the rain. Some of her fondest memories were during the monsoon seasons in India. But, Seattle wasn't India and from what she'd heard, it was perpetually rainy, unlike India where there were varying seasons.
When the stewardess' voice came over the loudspeaker, Kyra stood and grabbed her knapsack from the neighboring seat. She was tired from her long flight across the Atlantic and just wanted to sleep.
She stretched her body, standing only at 5'1". She sighed again. What an awful flight.
Making her way off the plane, her eyes scoped out the waiting area for her father, David Peterson. She hadn't seen him in over a year and a half, and wondered if he still looked the same.
Kyra wondered if his curly, dark brown hair, very similar to hers, was still long enough for her to playfully pull on like she used to; whether or not his grey eyes still sparkled when he laughed; if there were still little lines around his eyes from the way his eyes crinkled around the edges when he smiled.
"Kyra!" she heard from her right.
Immediately Kyra turned, looking for the face that accompanied the oh-so-familiar voice. Then there he was, exactly as she remembered.
"Dad!" she called back, running toward him and giving him a hug. He picked her up off the ground and spun her in a circle.
After a moment he put her down and placed his hands on her shoulders. Looking straight into her eyes, he asked, "How are you, kiddo? It's been too long."
"I'm good, dad. Well, as well as I could be considering…" she trailed off, remembering the reason for her move.
Ever since she was little, her and her mother had travelled. Thailand, China, Japan, Russia, Bulgaria, Romania, Germany, England, you name it. But when they had last visited France, her mother had fallen in love.
The man's name was Pierre la Rouge. He was a cold man, who hated children and anything that could possibly mess with his good reputation. He was a well known, wealthy, French businessman who was quite successful.
Well, her mother had fallen in love and well… Pierre changed her. No longer was she Amelia "Amy" Grey, the carefree, fun, loving mother who had taught her to love unconditionally and not care a whit about a poor reputation. Instead she became Amelia la Rouge, cold and impersonal, a marble statue overshadowing the woman she was before, concerned only about public opinion and her own wealth.
That had been four years ago, when Kyra was 11.
Pierre, having such a strong influence on her mother, got her mother to send Kyra away. Not, that Kyra realized what was going on at the time. The offer has been so perfectly phrased.
Kyra's honorary aunt and scholastic tutor since she was three, Ari Bharati, offered to continue their travels together, for a few years, at least. Just the two of them, they had backpacked across Italy, gone sightseeing in Russia, and skied in the Swiss Alps.
They had returned to France after three years and eleven months.
After dropping off her stuff upstairs in her room, Kyra had run downstairs in search of her mom. It'd been so long since they'd last seen each other. She'd heard raised voices coming from the parlor, and being an ever inquisitive person; Kyra snuck forward and placed her ear against the door so she could hear the conversation.
"She is your daughter, Amy!" Ari exclaimed angrily.
"I'm very well aware of that, my friend. But, at this point in Pierre's career, we can't afford to have distractions. We can't afford to have her here. After all, what would everyone say about her? The rumors would be awful for us and for her. No, it's best if she goes travelling with you again. When can you two leave again?" Kyra's mother had answered coldly.
"I can't go travelling again. That's why we returned. My mother is ill, and I have to return to India. She can't come with me otherwise I would take her." Ari paused and sighed. "I don't know what happened to my best friend Amelia, but you're not her. I must leave. Goodbye."
Kyra stepped back from the door, shocked and hurt tears streaming down her face.
Ari walked out, closing the door behind her. When she looked up at the crying teen, her eyes widened. "Oh, Ky," Ari sighed as she stepped forward and pulled the girl into her arms. "You deserve so much better than this."
They stood there for a moment in silent good bye.
Eventually, Ari pulled back. "I love you little cricket. Don't you ever forget that. There are people out there who will treat you better. Maybe you should go visit your dad, I'm sure he'd be thrilled to have you." Her voice trailed off and she sighed again.
After a beat of silence, she slipped the Hindi prayer beads over her head and placed them in Kyra's hands. "Take these. If ever you need comfort, do your 108 repetitions. It will calm you." Ari placed a kiss to her forehead and left.
A week later, she'd been in contact with her father, making living arrangements.
"Let's get you home," her father stated, breaking her out of her memories.
"Yeah, home."