This is just a prologue... tell me if you like it and if I should continue. It's just an Idea I had for a story.
I lost my parents at a young age. I was probably about seven… I don't really remember to be honest. All I really remember is a massive fight… lots of shouting and screaming, the sounds of people dying and my parents yelling at me to run. They said they'd come find me. And like an obedient daughter, I ran. But they never came for me. I waited for a long time for them to come. I know it was more than a week… I was starved and practically half dead when someone happened to stumble upon me and took me home with them, despite my weak protests. After I was better, I tried to find my way back to the meeting spot my parents wanted me to wait at… but I couldn't find it. I gave up after a week of searching, and I've been wandering around since, drifting from place to place.
I don't really have a home, but I do have one place I always tend to end up back at for some reason. It's a beautiful cave somewhere near Jasper, Nevada that is filled with these gorgeous blue crystals. For some reason, I always end up back there no matter how far I wander from it… I've wandered clear to Dallas, Texas and still ended up right back at that cave after a few months. I guess it's just a place I feel at home at.
I don't have any friends; I wander around way too much to have time to make any. And I only have a few belongings. All the things I own I carry around in a roller backpack. I just have a few changes of clothes, a small, thin blanket, a ragged fox stuffy, two notebooks, several pencils, and a lock picking set. I also have golden heart pendent I wear around my neck that I never take off. Inside are a couple pictures of my parents, and the front of the pendent is set with a stone that looks similar to the crystals that are in the cave I always find my way back to. Maybe my pendent has something to do with why I always end up back there… the crystals remind me of my parents. The pendent was their last gift to me after all… but enough of this, you're probably wondering just who the hell I am.
My name is Syra Mercator. I'm roughly 13 years old (I'm estimating… I can't really remember how old I am, I've been alone for too long), and I stand at about 4'11" tall. I have snow white hair and persian blue eyes with pale tan skin. If it weren't for my ankle length snow white hair, I'd probably look like any other kid… but my hair makes me stand out a bit, so I always wear a hoodie. My clothes are rather rugged. I don't have any money, so I always wear clothes that are torn and shredded. Not that I mind. They're better then nothing. Well, now you know a bit about me.
As I said, it's just the prologue. Pleas tell me if I should write more for it.