Hey everyone! So this is my first FanFiction and I hope you all like it! Really fast before I start the chapter, I want to say thanks to Rosabelle Meave Sterling for encouraging me to publish and my best friend for giving me feedback and being supportive all the way. Love you both! Also I have a challenge for all my readers. I love music and I feel like I can match a song with nearly every one of my chapters. So at the end of the chapter, I'm going to name a song that I feel fits. If you guys agree tell me, if not give me a different song (do you like my evil way of making you review? Mwahaha!). Ok, I think that's it. Read and Review, please!

One

"I. Am. Going. To. Die," Anabella Hopkins muttered to herself as she pounded her head against the train window. "I. Am. Going. To. Die!" she insisted and let out a long groan of boredom. Restless and with nothing to do, Anabella resorted to looking around the compact train cabin. Across from her she saw a woman in her late sixties looking at her with a concerned expression. Anabella gave the woman her most sincere smile she could muster (which was, at best, a little weak.) Then the woman went back to reading her newspaper. Anabella let the smile slip from her face and continued looking out the rattling window.

She looked out across the trees. They clustered together for warmth in the chill autumn air. Meadows spread across miles. Flowers sprung from the ground and waved in the wind. Anabella had never seen so much green before. She stared at the natural land, wondering how it could still be untouched by humans. It was her first day in a foreign country- France to be exact- and she already knew she wouldn't fit in. Compared to her hometown of New York City, this was another planet. A quiet planet. Maybe Pluto. No one ever talked about Pluto anymore. Was Pluto even a planet? Anabella didn't know and, frankly, she did not care. Her science teacher may have mentioned it but she didn't listen. Anabella stopped listening a long time ago.

Anabella looked down at the train route map in her hands. Her stop was next. She couldn't pronounce the name of the town correctly because it was in French. But it didn't matter; Anabella just called it the middle of nowhere. How this town had a fancy school program, she didn't know and, once again, did not care. Anabella only needed a boarding school and it needed to be as far away as possible from New York City.

Anabella had decided to move to France only two days ago so very little planning was involved. No one even knew she left besides her foster mother, and Donna didn't even care about her leaving. That only made things worse. Anabella wanted- needed really- someone there for her no matter what. She needed someone to say to her, "Don't worry. I'm on your side. We'll get through this together," but no one had said that to her for over a year. And no one would ever say it again if they knew her past.

But no one would ever know her past here. She would make sure of that. From now on she would never bring it up, never talk about it, never think about it. It was behind Anabella. Besides that's why she came to France in the first place: to get away from it all. She hated the comments behind her back, no one making eye contact with her, no one talking to her. But worst of all were the sympathetic looks. She didn't need anyone feeling sorry for her. She was tough; she could handle it.

Anabella let out a deep sigh. Actually she didn't know if she could handle this problem all alone. Her foster mother wasn't going to help her, that was for sure. And Anabella doesn't have any friends so that was out, too. She had actually thought about calling a lawyer, but her story was so farfetched that even a paid defense attorney would know that it was a lost cause. That was when she decided to run away. No one wanted her to stay. People even thought it would be better if she left. Anabella wouldn't be around their homes, around their children, or around her painful memories. That's what was causing her anger after all. All those memories of last year still fresh in her mind, like it was yesterday…. Anyone who was smart wouldn't bring it up, wouldn't make Anabella mad but Aaron hadn't been smart. He liked poking the bear with a stick and this time Anabella was the bear.

"No!" Anabella scolded herself quietly, "Don't think about it!" Anabella closed her eyes, trying to block out the world, when out of nowhere, her head started throbbing faintly. She didn't think anything of it. Then the pain intensified. It grew and grew, quickly getting worse. It kept escalating until it felt like her brain was going to burst out of her ears. Anabella started rubbing her temples and accidentally let out a whimper of pain.

"Are you alright, dear?" asked the woman across from Anabella in a thick, French accent.

"Yeah…. This happens a lot," Anabella said through clenched teeth. It actually did happen a lot. Almost once every week, but it was never this bad. Just a small headache, nothing Advil couldn't cure. But this wasn't a headache. No, this was her head exploding from the inside.

Anabella was shaking all over now. It took every bit of the strength she had left not to cry out in pain. She had given up on rubbing her temples and was now just holding her head, trying to keep it in one piece. The pain was incessant, like it was never going to stop growing in power. Somehow she had fallen out of her seat and was now on her trembling knees on the floor. She didn't even notice the tears flowing uncontrollably down her cheeks. In the distance, Anabella heard concerned voices; she had caused a crowd. She heard someone yell for a medic.

Then she slipped away from everything around her.

I'm found in a park. It's dark and cold. I'm under a picnic table curled up into a ball trying to block out the wind. My tiny hands are blue and my feet are numb. I have been here for hours, not knowing how to get home, or if I want to get home. They made it clear they didn't want me. Why should I run back to them? A silent battle is going on in my head: try to get home to them or stay here, alone and cold. But here, under my table, I am safe. Away from their painful beatings. Someone saves me from the decision. I don't know who they are, but they tell me they want to help. They ask me where my home is. "I have no home," I say. They look at me, frail from the cold and from being tired. The person has sad eyes. I take their large hand and am led to their car.

We drive for a long time. I sleep for most of it but wake up when we come to a stop. We're in front of a very old building. It's falling apart, missing bricks and vines are everywhere. Sad and lonely, I think. The person with large hands walks me up to the front door. It has a sign on it saying: St. Joseph's Orphanage. I'm too young to know what "orphanage" means.

Everyone in that train car gathered around the poor girl lying on the floor. Only seconds ago, she had stopped crying and lost consciousness. The medic had finally arrived and she was on her knees taking out her equipment and placing them next to the motionless girl. Everything seemed fine until the medic was checking her wrist for a pulse. Her face showed no emotion but her eyes were frightened. The woman started rummaging through her first aid kit frantically. The crowd behind them grew silent. When she found her stethoscope, she placed it on the girl's heart. She kept moving the metal end around in the same general area of the girl's chest but only continued to grow more and more frightened.

"What's wrong?" someone asked from the back of the crowd. The question hung in the cold silence.

"I can't find a heartbeat…. She's dead…." There was a long pause after the medic's answer. There were sad glances towards the girl's body. Some didn't even look at her. The woman that had shared the same train cabin with the young girl looked horrified and was close to tears. How strange it was that only ten minutes earlier she had said she was going to die…. Several people had started moving back to their train cabins, trying to escape the scene when they heard a shriek come from the front of the crowd. The few that had started to leave ran right back and joined the group again.

What they saw was impossible.

The medic had clearly stated that the girl was dead but there she was sitting straight up on the shaking train floor. A person let out a sigh of relief, another even laughed. There was cheerful chatter as they all smiled at the thought of the girl being alive and well. People were still rejoicing when an ear shattering scream rang out.

"Her eyes! Look at her eyes!" a woman cried. Everyone looked at the girl's now open eyes. Her chocolate brown eyes had been replaced with some kind of symbol; a bull's-eye with four lines extending from the circle, one on top, three on the bottom.

"Is this a prank?" someone yelled.

"She's joking us! She has to be!" another person said, "It must be those contacts you can buy now!"

"This can't be a prank!" the medic exclaimed over all the confused questions and unbelieving comments.

"And why not?" asked a man in the front and center of the crowd.

"Because her heart is still not beating!" the medic responded in a voice that only true terror could create. Everyone froze. No one dared breathe. They were all watching the supposed to be dead girl.

There was an audible inhale when the girl blinked several times, obviously just now becoming aware of her surroundings. She turned her head to the right. People in her view staggered back as if she had a deadly disease. Then she looked to the left. The people there did the same. She faced forwards once again with a glazed look in those disturbing eyes. And then, without any effort at all, the girl stood up in one sweeping movement. Everyone moved back at once; all of them were horrified and confused. None of them knew what was going on. They watched her closely as she slowly turned to face the young medic who was still close by. She took one step towards the woman and tilted her head to one side.

"Are you scared?" asked the young girl in an inhuman voice that almost sounded electronic. She was answered by a small sob of fear that had escaped the medic's throat.

"Don't worry," the girl let her lips curl into an evil smile, "It only hurts for a second."

And she lunged for the woman's throat.

A Place In This World by Taylor Swift