A/N: I know I should be writing my other story, and I swear that it was my complete intention to do that when I sat down at the computer today, but it was impossible. All I could think about was writing a side story that had jumped out at me as I fell asleep several weeks ago. This will be updated much less regularly than my fanfiction about Luke. Please feel free to comment and give me suggestions. No flames please because I flame myself to much as it is. Enjoy my take on Connie's life.

Warning: Mentions of abuse and self harm

Disclaimer: If I owned Jessie, Luke and Connie would be featured more.

Part One: Free

Luck had never been on Luke's side, but now a scary girl named Connie was. For many bizarre and numerous reasons she had taken it as her personal life goal to protect Luke at school (and maybe follow him home). It wasn't an obsession…no… although it could look like that to the others. She saw parts of herself in Luke. She wanted to help him. She knew that if she didn't help him he would melt down. Of course Luke wouldn't appreciate all of her…stalking…but in time he would come to realize that the real reason that things at school got better was one Connie Mayhem Thompson, a socially awkward, slightly disturbed 7th grader had taken an interest in him, and once her sights were set, there was no stopping her from achieving her goals. She was feared. Fear was good if you were the one being feared. It needed to stay that way. People couldn't know she was entirely sane, and had a reason for doing everything. She was incredibly smart to disguise herself in that way.

For as long Connie could remember she had worn masks. She had done whatever was necessary in order to stay under the radar and hidden. Safe. It was a habit that had kept her alive for years, and was now keeping her sane (though not in the eyes of those who saw her). Staying unseen was good. She saw herself in Luke. She could see his fear. His trepidation was clearly visible to anyone who would care to look. Luckily for him, she was the only one with eyes for this type of thing.

Her father. Yes, her father was the one who had eventually driven her to leave. After years of abuse she just left one day. She only took 157 dollars and the clothes on her back. She had been stupid then, but taking little had been vital to her survival. And oh she ran. Fast and hard. Fast and hard. She ran, ran, ran. She stopped for nothing as she flew, flew, flew down the streets of New York City. She spent a little of her precious money to get a metro pass and take the subway as far away as she could remember being before. Looking back it was only a few stops, but in the big city, it felt like light-years. She couldn't remember exactly which station she had gotten off on…81st maybe? she didn't really know. She was close to Central park, that much she knew. She could smell the musty horse smell and see all of the tourists biking around on rented bikes. She could she a few little kids on the playground, and a young teenager in a bright green coat leaping from rock to rock. It was marvelous. Nothing likes her musty dark house at all. She had felt suffocated under the constant wrath of her father. She was 7 and a half and she was free.

Connie had been homeless for about three months before she really got the hang of it. She had had trouble at first stealing for the right places at the correct times. After a few high speed chases which ended with her hiding in dark alleys or behind theaters, she had learned her lesson. It was NYC there were thousands of food carts and plenty of wasteful people, ready to throw away full meals just because they were late to an appointment or didn't feel hungry. She had begun to love New York. She knew where to sleep and where the best places to stay out of the rain were. She new what type of person didn't notice even when a horrible pickpocket stole from them. She could recognize a generous person from five blocks away. She knew which shopkeepers wouldn't notice if a shit or pair of pants went missing every once in a while. She knew where in china town you could bargain a price so good that the people were paying you to buy their stuff. She was good at what she did. She now had more money than she had started with. Connie thought that she might have about 230 dollars, but she wasn't really sure.

Connie had been homeless about year before she got noticed. It had started like any other day. She woke up early and bathed in a fountain. She washed her spare set of clothes and went to a bakery. She waited until it opened while munching on some old croissants that she had found out back. She then went in and bought a cheap bagel for lunch and swiped a bottle of water. She then walked down to Times Square and loitered. Then she went to her usual hang out, the breakfast tables on the eighth floor of the Marriott Marquis in Times Square. She ate her bagel there before leaving and walking back to the park. When she got there she sat down on her swing and aimlessly swung for a while. It was then that she was notice. A kind looking lay came over and started talking to her. When the conversation shifted to family, Connie knew that she was caught. Five days later she was bidding farewell to freedom and greeting foster care. Ten days after that she was leaving the first in a long string of foster parents.

She had seen the cuts on his arms even though he tried s hard o hide them. He had tried to hard. Constantly pulling down long sleeves on hot days was a dead give away to fellow cutters. He was nervous about his family finding out. Connie wouldn't tell them. She knew that it helped you cope with pain. What anyone who was going through troublesome times needed was control. Cutting gave you control. She knew. She went home every day after being made fun of or being shunned and she cut.

One for the past.

One for being trapped.

One for Luke.

One for "Creepy Connie" the girl who was despised.

If anyone found out they would just encourage it. That was Connie's life.

A/N: Thanks for reading. I'll try to update once a month or once every other month. If your lucky I'll update more often. I want to focus on my other story, Luke's Luck ( formerly ). If you liked this, review and check out my other stories.