Hello everyone! No I am not stopping Searching for a Scoop, but this story has been bugging me so much, I HAD to write it. :-) I really hope you like it. As always, please leave me a review. Also, much thanks to Jessica, Liz, Laura and Nicole for looking over the first four chapters for me. You all rock!

Discalimer - I do not own anything you recognize, only that which you don't :-)

Chapter 1

As I stepped into the building that I had spent so much time in, I felt a rush of trepidation. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window and could see a nervous blonde haired girl looking back at me.

Odd that the home I grew up in would be the location of my demise…

I was the only child of two successful individuals: Brian Hall, my father, was a much-sought physician; and Lisa Hall, my mother, was an esteemed chemist. Everyone assumed I would be similar: a surgeon, perhaps, or maybe a pharmacist.

Unfortunately, I, Amanda Hall, was home after four years of university with a Bachelor's degree in English and no career. I had found a love in writing, not dissecting. The only medical knowledge I had was basic first aid and CPR.

This was not what my parents would want to hear. Not that it was what I wanted to be doing, moving back in with my parents at 21. I had imagined that at 21 I would be living in an apartment and hanging with friends, while holding a steady 9-5, good paying job.

Yet there I was, back in Chicago, with my parents, unemployed.

All my friends had moved across the country, successful in the attainment of their dreams.

Of course, the first things my parents noticed were my bags. Lisa, cold and calculating as ever, simply turned her head back to the issue of Popular Science she was reading. My father was always more understanding.

"We didn't touch your room," he said with a smile. "Go ahead and put your stuff away and then come tell us what's new."

Thanking him with my eyes, I took the escape he offered and ran up the stairs to my room.

Not wanting to actually unpack yet, as that would only make the situation more real, I sat down and thought about how I was going to tell my parents I needed to move back in until I found a job.

My father would be supportive of my decisions. Lisa…

Yeah, she is going to disown me.

When I could delay the meeting no longer, I slowly descended the stairs, heading to the living room where I had left my parents. Neither had moved: Lisa was still buried in her magazine and my father was still watching the news on TV.

At my arrival, my father looked up with a smile, but Lisa, taking a deep breath, simply stared.

"So," my father said, "what are your plans?"

Keeping my eyes on my father--knowing that my mother was listening to every word--I explained that I was, at the moment, unemployed. That I had several interviews lined up over the next few days and I only needed to get situated and then I would get my own place.

"English…" I heard Lisa mutter under her breath. While my father had supported my chosen major, mother had seen it as a weak decision, which would only lead to my financial ruin.

It had been 11 years since my life had changed, since my mother had withdrawn into her world of labs and numbers, cutting off all emotional contact. It was 11 years ago that my great-grandmother, Minnie Lockwood, moved in to try to heal the broken fragments of her family. It was four years ago that Minnie died, forever splitting my mother and I.

"Let us know what we can do to help," my father said, preventing anything from starting between my mother and myself. Again, I gave him a grateful look.

"I'm pretty tired, so I think I am going to call it a day. We can talk tomorrow," I offered, rising from my seat and heading upstairs. I could only take so much of my mother ignoring me before it began to sting.

There had not always been this rift between us, but it existed for so long now, the memories of good times between my mother and me were vague at best.

I was not always an only child. When I was four, my parents had had another daughter, Sarah. Sarah was Lisa's pride and joy. Although Lisa loved me, her eldest daughter, I was a dreamer and this was something Lisa could not relate to. Sarah was going to follow in her shoes. All her toys were junior chemistry sets and the like.

Sarah loved to learn and would listen to her mother's lessons with unwavering attention.

I played pretend and dress up and would not sit still for lessons.

When Sarah was old enough, she had her own private tutor and was en route to be accepted to some very exclusive primary schools.

All that changed on March 9, 2006, 11 years and 3 months ago.

As I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes, I could see the whole thing as though it happened the other day.

I was 10 and Sarah had just turned 6 one month earlier. Sarah was the top student at Mount Carmel Academy. Lisa was driving us home from one of Sarah's after school science clubs. Sarah was seated up front, babbling about something to do with lasers and molecules; Lisa was listening in earnest, proud of the daughter who shared her passion. I was in the back, wanting attention.

"Mom?" I asked, wanting to tell her about my day.

"Yes, dear?" Lisa said, not turning to look at her other daughter.

"We learned still life in art class today," I said, very excited.

"That's nice dear," Lisa said, trying to sound equally excited.

"Look mom," I said, holding up my project.

Without turning her head, Lisa merely smiled and said, "That's nice, dear."

But I had noticed the lack of head movement. "You didn't see it. Look, Mom!"

And Lisa looked. Taking her eyes off the road, she turned back to see the well-drawn piece in my hands.

It was one quick glimpse, but in that moment the light turned red and Lisa was not stopping. Entering the intersection, their car was hit on the passenger side by a drunk driver who they would later find was going double the legal speed limit.

Sarah was killed instantly. She never felt anything. But Lisa felt it. And so did I.

I was too young to realize that I was distracting my mom from paying attention, but I did notice that Lisa was not the one comforting me in the days that followed. My father was by my side most, until he finally called great-grandma Minnie to come live with us. Although Minnie was related to Lisa, one would never know, as they were complete opposites. Minnie had been kicked out of her last nursing home for a small gambling binge and needed a place to stay. The timing was perfect.

While Brian cared for his wife, Minnie cared for me. It was one of the best summers of my life, oddly. Although I missed my sister, no one played with or paid attention to me like Minnie.

Minnie encouraged my love of writing and my passion for acting. And I loved to sit with and knit, just listening to Minnie's stories from 'the good old days.' Her favorite stories were about her childhood in the early nineteen hundreds. Born in 1910, Minnie was well into her 90s, but nothing seemed to bring her down.

Minnie would talk about how when the men went off to war, she and her mother would do the men's work. She grew up very independent for the times, but because of her social standing and family wealth, no one told her what to do. When she had met great-grandpa Albert Lockwood and he asked for her hand, she had told him to 'jump in a lake.' When he proceeded to do so, she knew that was the man for her. They were married for over 60 years before he passed in 1998. I couldn't remember him, but there were pictures of him holding me as a baby and looking proud as anything.

Because of the stories I was told, the 1920s always fascinated me and, often, I would write stories set in the era.

Minnie and I also shared a love for sci-fi and horror movies, something we neglected to share with either Brian or Lisa.

"The real world is a lot scarier than any vampire or werewolf," Minnie would say. Our favorites were always the vampire flicks.

For seven years, Minnie lived in the Hall household and kept things peaceful. But Lisa avoided me as much as was possible for a mother. In a desire to appease my mother, I tried to show an interest in science, but I could never succeed at a higher level.

But Minnie could not fight the battle of age: On November 12, 2013, at the age of 103, she passed on. That was hard year for me, as I had been closer to my great grandmother than anyone.

It was my final year of high school and I already had acceptance letters from all my top picks for college.

Without Minnie around to be a buffer between Lisa and myself, our relationship quickly deteriorated. Although Brian tried to keep the peace between us, he worked long hours and could not always be around. In the end, we silently agreed to avoid each other to stop the many arguments.

So, when I announced I was headed to the University of Washington to major in English and minor in History, my mother didn't say a word.

As I lay on my bed, letting the memories of my past over take me, I didn't notice the tears falling down my face as I fell into a restless sleep.