Author's Note: Hello. I am Basic Mione. -waves- This is my first fanfic. I am a little nervous to post it, but hopefully everyone will like it. :

Chapter 1

"Getting Out"

"I'm tired of being here!" I screamed down the staircase.

"Well first off, QUIT YELLING AT ME! And second off, do you know how hard it is to raise you when you run off like a hooligan every other day…"

"Well first off," I started in a mimicked voice, "You yelled first. And second off, I didn't ASK you to raise me, now DID I?"

I slammed the door, not waiting to hear a reply to my question. Not whenever my foster parents, John and Rhonda, were yelling at me. Again. Frankly, I was getting tired of it.

"It's no good yelling at them, Samantha," my foster sister, Cecilia told me, using my full name.

"What would you know, Cecilia?" I knew that she hates being called by her full name as well as she knew I hate being called by mine.

"Whatever." Cecilia, or Sissy, as her friends and family called her, stretched her legs out on the bed. My bed.

Really, what did she know? I had been out on the streets all my life basically, been to foster home to another foster home since I was four. That has been 12 years now, I was nearly an adult. While she had been safe in her bed. Her bed, with silk sheets and maids to make it up after she wakes. With her parents there, like parents should be. She really had no idea about how life will be out in the real world. I nearly laughed when I thought of how naïve she was. How sheltered she was.

"What are you doing in here anyways? Don't you have some place to be? Like, the Country Club? In other words, GET OUT." I shouted, still angry at John and Rhonda.

"Hey, I'll have you know, this is my house you are in."

"And now it is also my house, thank you very much. Which means this," I motioned toward my room. "is my room. Which means when I say get out I mean one thing. GET OUT!"

Sissy sighed. "You know, without that purple hair of yours, you would be quite pretty."

"What does my hair color have to do with anything?"

"A lot. You might have friends if you would just let me dye it. You know, to a natural color."

Now it was my turn to sigh.

"I don't want friends to like me for how I look. I just.. I just want to get out of here!"

"You are so kidding." Sissy narrowed her eyes at me.

For her information, I wasn't kidding. Most times I get rid of my foster family. Before they get rid of me.

"No, I am so not. I'm tired of living in this house. Being in this town. Everyone here is so materialistic."

"Fine. Leave."

"Okay then, I will." I got my bag and started packing everything up.

"You're serious…?"

"I told you. I want to get out of here."

"You have only been here for a month!" She jumped off the bed, clearly surprised.

"Wow, that long?" I zipped up my bag and put it over my shoulder.

"So, when the tough gets going, the Sam gets rolling, huh? Is that how it is?"

I pretended to think. "Yeah, pretty much."

And without another word, I whipped out through the window and down the tree (not very skillfully, I'll admit.) and back out, onto the streets.

End Author's Note: I know. It was short. It is supposed to just give a little background on this 'Sam/Samantha' character. Don't worry, the gang will come up in chapter 2. Well, most of it will.