A/N: Hey guys! This is my first Beatles fanfic and my first fanfic since like, prehistoric ages. I wrote this groggily at two in the morning, so please ignore any grammatical or spelling errors. *sighs* My random writing urges. Feedback is greatly appreciated, and any criticism that will help benefit future writing would just be great. Thank you for reading this (if you did, haha and thank you), and see you at the end of the chapter!

Liverpool, December 1958

I reeled the window of Mr. Alvey's rickety old orange drophead 1951 Bentley down as I breathed in the refreshing sent of the cool sea air as we drove by the port. I have to say, this would probably be the best (and only) perk of my moving to Liverpool. We never had that privilege back home.

And just as I was beginning to relish the sea breeze-

"Um, miss, if you don't mind closing that, I'm finding it a tad chilly in here. I'm afraid of catching a cold, you know," Alvey said sneeringly (I do hope he's not doing this on purpose) as he swatted his small hand with abnormally stubby fingers towards me, "My own two children at home- Penn and little Emma- oh you should really meet them one day, they're just darling- have the flu at home right now... rather awful, isn't it? Poor kids, sick right before holiday." He wheezed as he clucked his tongue whilst tapping the steering wheel.

I narrowed my eyes and sighed as I closed the window. Oh, how I hated my caretaker. He wasn't a bad person, but he just seemed a bit stand-offish to me. He never really, do anything. He was just, simply, there. ...Now, that I think about it, actually, technically speaking, he was supposed to be the one taking care of me, but had decided to take it onto his own hands by giving me to his cousin instead. Was I really that unwanted?

But, who am I to say so?

I closed my eyes and leant back in his battered up passenger seat.

Without opening my eyes, I asked, "So who is this cousin of yours, anyways?"

I could hear his voice quiver nervously at my question. "Oh, I'm glad you asked. He's a distant cousin of mine, who, lucky for you, was very open to the idea of taking you into his home and his care." We turned down a street, and as he hit a red light, he slammed on his brakes abruptly, jerking me forward and opening my eyes stubbornly just in time to see that he nearly hit the motorcyclist in front of us, too. I glanced at Mr. Alvey and saw him mutter under his breath, "These wild hooligans...don't know any better, that's for sure...better be brought to law..."

He slowly turned his face to me, and jumped a little to see me, legs crossed and looking at his skeptically. It worked.

Alvey turned back to his steering wheel and slightly propped the porkpie hat sitting on his hat higher on his head, which had gone a bit askew during his small mishap, nervously. But then again, almost everything he did seemed nervous.

"I really do apologize about not being able to look after you, Estella." I winced as he used my proper first name...I hated it.

Oh, and if you were wondering, my full name is Estella Ginger Beckett. To be honest, I preferred to be called simply by my nickname: Elle. Or using my middle name would be fine, too.

"I was actually very honored to hear that your mother decided to put me in her will, saying that I be your caretaker if...anything were to happen." He took an awkward side glance at me.

I grimaced silently as I continued to watch the buildings and people flying by through the side window. I didn't want him to bring up my mother's passing- it was so... unexpected.

Remembering it all was so easy yet so painful at the same time- I was coming home for school, only to find the front door locked. When my mother was home, which she usually was, she left it open so I wouldn't have to fuss with keys- I have to admit, I was rather (and still am) clumsy and forgetful with my first pair and my mother agreed I didn't exactly need them. So, you can assume naturally something was up.

"Mum? Are you home?" I asked nervously as I rapped on the door. What's going on? I knocked again. No response. Maybe my mother was in the kitchen on the phone?

I walked over to the side of the house, and climbed my way around our bush.

Ugh, darn thorns. My lousy school uniform which consisted of a drab grey sweater over a red plaid skirt decided to get in the way. No big deal, I thought- I had more important things of another matter I needed to tend to.

I wiped off the moisture from the kitchen window with my sleeve to find everything that I didn't want to see- my mother, collapsed on the floor. She seemed so lifeless, helpless- arms spread out, legs mangled, laid face down on the floor. Blood splattered everywhere.

Without much thought, I grabbed our gardening hose and slammed the end through the glass window and climbed through, onto the blood stained floor and clutched her unmoving body in my frail arms. As I turned her body over, I found a gaping wound in her chest- a gunshot wound no doubt. I was gently shooken when my mother made a faint sound, escaping from her chapped lips.

"Elle...please..."

"M-mum...w-who did this?!", I cried out loud as I started shrieking for help.

"No...calm down...whatever happens...whatever you...may...hear...please don't..."

"W-what? What are you saying?!"

"I love you, Elle."

I inhaled sharply as my mother's head rolled over to the side. I cried even harder. I held her blood stained body to my chest, and I didn't care if blood got on my god damned school uniform. I didn't care about anything else.

I held her closer. "I love you too, mum."

I smiled a little as I brushed her slightly greying hair out of her face; even now, she still looked as beautiful as ever. But what did she mean, "whatever you may hear...please don't...?"

Thinking for a moment, a turned my head thoughtfully to the side of the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the shotgun.

"Hey, Ginger- I heard you screaming and I-" I heard our neighbor's son, Finn, run in- but it was too late. The sight was too much for me to take- then everything went black.

I can't believe this all happened less than a week ago.

Waking me up from my nightmarish (no kidding) trance- "You're probably surprised by this, but your mother and I were very good friends back in college. But I have a busy life and a busy schedule raising two children whilst having a fleeting career as a businessman, and quite frankly, I simply do not have the time to be taking care of another human being, let alone someone your age...how old are you, again?" he question as we turned a corner. I could see a cluster of homes in the distance. We were near.

"...what? Oh! Um, I'm about to turn seventeen this month, sir. On the thirteenth."

"Ah."

I sighed thoughtfully as I reminisced of all the fun and good times I had back in Oxford. Of course I would miss my friends back home , but I would prepare for a new life here, and look on the bright side. It would've been what my mother wanted, anyhow.

We pass through a couple more blocks of silence, when he decide to break the silence by clearing his throat: "And by the way, your new guardian's name is," he paused to cough into his pocket hanky- "Jim. Jim McCartney. His wife had passed away not so long ago so I'd be careful around that subject if I were you."

Funny, aren't you careful around my subject aren't you... Uhm, anyways...

He paused thoughtfully and added, "And he has two sons, Paul and Mike. From what I hear" -very reasuring, Alvey- "they're about your age, so you musn't worry about making friends here," he paused again, "...I suppose. Just don't fool around with them, that's all. Mr. McCartney has enough on his hands already, so please, excuse my language- don't be a bloody pain in the arse."

Oh, wasn't this going to be fun.

Welll here it is! I don't know if this chapter was interesting enough, but trust me, it gets better. I thought myself that this was a pretty long chapter, so I guess if you like that please let me know! I just hate when people leave short chapters. It just leaves me wanting more!

Oh by the way my tumblr is .com, if you wanna talk or whatever, I guess.

B) ~peace