So, I held a poll for giggles on what kind of story, like my other story Test Tube Baby, people would want to read. They were all types of stories like TTB where the kid gets told the parents they grew up with weren't their real parents. Some of the options were, Skulker as Danny's father (it's been done but it's still a cool idea), Walker as Sam's Father or Grandfather, and such. The winner, by a landslide, was this. The Name was also decided by poll from a list.

Now that I've given it away, Enjoy the story!

Clean this... Clean that... It seemed whenever Sam got in trouble, or in a lot of cases, when Danny got her in to trouble, something was always excessively dirty at that time. And of course as her punishment, her parents would make her clean that whatever it was untill it was spotless. Sometimes the girl thought when they heard she was with Danny, they trashed the bathrooms just so she would have something to clean so she couldn't go back out.

Some times she thought they hated her. They only ever wanted to change her into one of them. They could never accept her for who she was. They never seemed to want her the way she was or want her at all. Sometimes it seemed like her parents were trying to hide her away so she wouldn't embarass them. And really, that didn't seem that far fetched.

Sam pushed herself off of the floor and rose to her feet. She threw down her wash rag in the sink and looked around the now shing bathroom around her. The tile floors sparkled in the annoyingly bright light and relected her image back at her.

Samantha examed her reflection thoughtfully. Violet eyes blinked back at her in the white floor. They were eyes that no one else in her family had. She also had rounder features than her parents. They told her it was her age but she always seemed different. It was like she was destined to not be like them. Even her grandmother always told her she was unique from her parents. She just wanted to know why...

Even in her dreams she wasn't with them. She was with another woman. Sam didn't know who the woman was. Her face was shadowed but some how familiar. Sam had had dreams of this woman for years but she had never discovered her identity. Maybe her mind had created her to fill the space that her parents were creating in their family. r maybe she was some long lost relative or friend that Sam had forgotten.

"Oh, Sammykins!" Her mothers voice rang out from the hall, "Are you finished yet?"

"Yes, I'm finished," The goth girl groaned.

The red haired woman walked around the frame of the door, same plastic smile plastered on her face in her typical Susie homemaker dress.

"Well, now that you're done, Your father needs you to organise his office for him." Pamela said with a smile.

The daughter's jaw fell open, "What? But I just cleaned this whole bathroom!"

Her mother's expression never moved, "Well then you better get on it before your bed time, young lady."

Sam rolled her eyes and trudged from the office, shouldering past her mother.

"I hate this place..." Sam mumbled to herself as she headed up the stairs.

She walked through the heavily decorated halls, past the thick wooden doors andto her father's office. He had left on a business trip for the weekend so he wouldnt even be using it for two more days.

Sam shoved the oak door open roughly, flicking on the lights as she entered. She looked around and found nothing wrong what so ever. Everything seemed to be in order. The bookshelves were tidy, the papers on his desk were stacked neatly... Pamela was officially just making things up for her to do.

deciding to do anything to kill time Sam walked around to the desk. She sat in the lagre rotating leather chair and picked up the novel that Jeremy, her father, had been reading.

"Controling your Children for Dimwits"

'Figures.' Sam thought, 'They're researching this now.'

She tossed the book back on the desk with a heavy tud. The vibration shook the desk slightly and a small ding sound echoed through the room. Sam looked around her curiously, not knowing what it was. Leaning foreward, she looked under the desk and saw small brass key had fallen from a small ridge built into it's underside.

A key? Why would my dad have a key hidden in his desk?

Sam picked it up, ready to put it away, when curiosity overtook her. She looked over the desk for a key hole and didn't find one.

'Okay, so it doesnt go in the desk,' Sam thought as she stood and looked around.

It wasn't like her dad to keep things hidden in the house... Unless he was hiding something from Sam.

She had to find what this key went to.

"Sam, are you working in there?" Pamela called from downstairs, "It's almost your bed time!"

"Working on it!" Sam shouted back as she walked around the walls of the office to look for anything the key could go to.

She scanned the book shelves, seeing volume apon volume of things she never caed about and never would. There were photos bunched together on one shelf and fore some reason Sam felt drawn to them. They were a foot above her head so she couldnt see behind them. They were photos of her parents in Maui vacationing when they were younger.

What better place to hide something from your kids than behind pictures of her mother in a bikini.

Sam reached up and shoved the pictures aside. Her small hand groped around at dusty air for a long moment before her fingers found something large and wooden. Standing up on the tips on her toes she reached back as far as she could and grasped it, pulling it foreward. She almost caused it to fall on the floor but she caught it before it fell past her waist.

Samantha examined the item. It was a small, oddly plain wooden box. It was about a foot long and about three inches tall and the only thing on it was a small brass key hole. It matched the key she had found in the desk.

Looking toward the door, Sam made sure no one was watching as she slipped the key into the slot. It went in with ease and with some slight jiggling, it turned. A quiet click filled the room and Sam's heart sped up a bit at what could have been under the lid.

she lifted the lid slowly and-

"Sammykins!"

Sam closed the lid quickly and turned around. She held the box behind her back as her mother walked into the room. She wore that usual smile as she looked around the room.

"Well this place looks clean enough for now. You better get to bed young lady."Pamela told her.

"Alright. I'm almost done." Sam told her with a forced smile.

Mrs Manson gave a wary look and walked from the room. Sam made sure she heard her go in in her own room before pulling box back out from behind her back. Not wanting to be caught again, Sam clutched it to her chest and hustled to her bedroom. The path was clear of any of the family maids or family members so she easily made it to her door. She opened it and locked herself in like she did everynight. Her mother would think nothing of it and pass it off as just another night her daughter was "wasting away in her room".

She ran to her bed and sat down with the box in her lap. The need to know what was inside was eating at her from the inside. She lifted the lid slowly, biting her bottom lip, preparing for any number of things that could have been under it.

To her confusion, there was only a folder and some photos sitting on top of it. Sam pulled out the photos and squinted at them. They were faded and bad quality but she could definately tell they were photos of her. They were in a place she didnt recognise. She was only a toddler in the picture so it made sense she didn't remember this place.

Sam moved the pictures aside and pulled out the folder. She scanned over the side facing her and saw nothing. She turned it over so it was the right way up.

As quickly as she red the words, she dropped the folder. It landed on the floor in a rattling of papers and a spray of forms. A life she'd never known spread across her dark carpet, illuminated by the dim faux-candle light. The girl's breath caught in her chest as she took in the undeniable truth that lay before her. She struggled to remain calm as she reread the words in black ink across the front of the folder. She had to be sure they were right.

Sure enough... They were there like a black scar.

Amity Park Orphanage