Author's Note: Hello all. I've been playing around with this idea for awhile now but wasn't sure how to start it. I think I've decided to integrate both 3rd person and 1st by way of a journal introduction for each chapter which will then transfer into the 3rd person pov, with a few extra povs added to the mix, and that sounds really confusing.

This intro chapter is set some time in the future, and then the following chapters will be in the past/present.

If she seems like a mary-sue please let me know so that I can fix her!

Disclaimer: I do not in any way own Transformers

I used to be a normal girl, yeah that's right, used to be. Just your usual run-of-the-mill east-coast teenager, well maybe you wouldn't call it east coast per say. I guess if you live more than 100 miles from the beach you don't live on the coast, okay, how about Kentucky girl, or is that too specific? Anyway, as I was saying, just your stereotypical tomboy from Kentucky, obsessed with guns, bows, and horses. What else was there to life besides my well-worn jeans, boots, and chaps, my .22, and my Matthews DXT. Nothing better than a hot summers day after shooting and riding for a few hours, and cooling off by swimming the horses in the pond. That's what I used to think.

Everything started going downhill when we moved, and I'm not talking about moving to a nearby city or something, though that would have been hell too, cities are awful. No, we were moving west, and I mean, all the way west, as in to some little place called Tranquility. It's in Nevada if you're wondering; don't worry, I hadn't heard of it either.

I found out about their little scheme after I graduated from Aviation Challenge for the last time. AC's a kind of camp. You don't have little sing-alongs, or campfires, or other camp activities. You ask someone at AC about stuff like that and they'll laugh in your face. See, Aviation Challenge is a military camp, down in Alabama, once you get to be a Mach III, the older kids, all you wear is fatigues and flight suits. You stand at attention, drill, patrol, fly sims, and so on, all in the blazing summer heat. It's unbelievable fun. I'd been going since I was 10. Unfortunately this was my last year, you can't go past the year you graduate from high school. Now it was either college or the military, I hadn't made a final decision yet.

Good old mom and dad were waiting for me and my 14 year old little brother, Tommy, when we came down from the Hab with our luggage.

"Hi sweeties!" Yup, there's mom for you, always going out of her way to embarrass us. She's never been fond of my interest in the military, she wants me to be an engineer, like my dad.

Dad's more of a loner, especially compared to mom, sometimes it seems like all she cares about are parties and social events. He's pretty old-fashioned; he can't wait till I find myself a boyfriend so he can threaten him with his old shotgun.

Any way, so mom greeted us with hugs and kisses, asked us how camp had been, usual mom stuff. Then we packed up the car and headed off to get lunch.

You know in movies and books, where people spit out there drinks when they hear something surprising? It doesn't happen in real life, at least not to me. No, when mom and dad broke the news about moving, I had of course just taken a swig of my sweet-tea (you can only find the best sweet-tea in the south after all), instead of spraying out of my mouth my drink decided to go down the wrong pipe, leaving my throat and nose burning from the unpleasant sensation and me coughing and spluttering as I stared at my insane parents. Doesn't that make a lovely image?

You might at this point be wondering why I didn't just say, "Have fun!" And move into an apartment near where we were currently living, seeing as I was out of high school and turning 19 in a few months.

As I mentioned earlier, I was still trying to decide whether I should go to college or join the military, so obviously I was still living with my family until I either went to boot camp or moved into a dorm. Also, living out in the country, I didn't have a real job, instead I worked on our family's small horse farm and hot-walked at the track and at horse sales and such. It wasn't the best situation for someone my age I suppose, but it got me by.

And did I mention my problems with cars? I'm not good with cars. I mean, sure, I can drive as almost well as the next person, I just don't like to. Cars just don't make sense to me. Don't get me wrong, I love tinkering with mechanical stuff, taking it apart, putting it back together, it's part of the reason mom wants me to be an engineer. And I'm a speed person, always have been, it's part of the reason I love riding, that feeling of the wind whipping in your face. I guess driving off road is kinda fun, and on the back roads, but put me on a big highway with lots of other cars and good night. Plus, I couldn't tell a Camry from an Avalon, they all look the same. Mom always makes sure to park next to a similar car so I get confused; they think it's funny.

That's part of the reason why I didn't have a job, and a big part of the reason I was being dragged to Tranquility.

That seems ages ago now.

Author's Note: Next chapter, which is really the start of the story, should be up in the next few hours, tell me what you think!