Title: My Name Is . . .
Rating: pg13?
Disclaimer: I don't own Sentinel, but I do own this character, which I won't name fully yet. Please don't sue or anything, I have little value or possessions. And you wouldn't want the Cat I do have, he'll tell no tales.
Author's note: Well, ummm, this chapter doesn't have any Sentinel characters in it. But the next one will, I promise. So don't flame till you read the second. This is considered AU anyway, so all I can tell you is it's going to get weird. This is supposed to be set about six months after my last story, which is about two years ago. So if you're still game keep reading. Hope you like it.
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She was free, that's all she could think of as the plane took off. And as she drew farther and farther away from that place, the pain began to dull and for the first time in nearly eleven months it was like she was truly awake. No more beatings, no more yelling, no more nights huddled in bed trying to make the right mixture of face paint to suit her skin so she could cover the bruises, no more soaking her fingers in hot water or putting ice-packs on them to reduce the swelling so she could type the next day. She was free from that, free from him, and free from the person she had became in those eleven months. I am not Tara. Yes, that was right. She was free from that name again as well, and she didn't have to hear it again unless she wanted to. I am Rain. Yes, she could possess her nickname again, not have to hide the name they had given her. The name that made her feel so loved and wanted, one of the few they had for her. I am Michelle. Yes, her true name, the name she would always keep because of her mother. I am an Obitan. Yes, she was an Obitan, and she would stay one this time because that was whom she was.
As the seatbelt sign went out, she unbuckled the belt and pulled out her laptop. She ran her fingers over it possessively, lovingly as she looked at the drawing (laminated) and held to the top by pretty stickers. Her picture, the one her baby sister had drawn for her would always be with her. And this, her laptop, the one she had saved months to buy, and had saved even longer to get all the extras and software added to it. It was hers. Yes, she had saved and bought it on her own without anyone's help, the first thing she had bought with the money she had earned from her part-time job. She had bought other things; like the comfortable clothes, pretty cosmetics, the soft nightgowns and lingerie, and even the few pieces of jewelry in her carry on were all bought with the money from the paycheck she had earned.
There was more, she had bought more from that hellhole. The things she had cherished and loved, and had given her comfort when she had so desperately needed it. She had left nothing of herself there, except her love for her sister and mother . . . and the hatred of him, and the letter and box under her sister's pillow. Everything else she had taken, even the photos of her face, she had taken from their frames or books or stored places. All but a few; the two in her mother's and sister's purses, the two on the walls, and the one sitting on her mother's night stand. The one in her father's wallet she had even taken, leaving only the nine-year old family portrait wallet he had left.
They're would be no current photos of her in that house, only the few old ones she had left in her mother and sister's purses. There would be no current photos to give to the police, not without tracking them down, and her friends wouldn't give her parents the photos. Only if the police asked would they give them up. She was glad she had gone ahead and given them two copies each before she left. She was also glad she had said good-bye to her friends, and her teachers. She had made sure her absence was understood and that she would stay discreetly in touch with them.
She also knew that all of them, her friends and teachers alike, would cooperate with the police at the barest minimum and would give her father hell as well. They would make sure to let her baby sister's teachers know to look for signs after she left, to even contact her aunts and uncles to watch if need be. They would in short, keep her father busy and give the police little to go on.
By tomorrow she would be in Virginia, in her beloved mountains, and packing the few other things up there she would need. She would stay one night with her Gran, make sure Whiskers, her cat, was checked out by a vet, and then leave in the morning for her final destination. By then her stuff would be already there and her new Ids would be made. She'd be able to hide, and they would never make her go back.
Checking her watch, she estimated it would be at least three hours before she landed for the stop over. It would last a little over an hour and she could eat then before catching her next flight to home. Right now she needed to plan, to make lists for what she needed to do. Slipping headphones over her ears, and booting up her laptop, she glanced out the window at the clear, star-filled sky and wished on the crescent moon for this not to go wrong. She couldn't lose this dream, for it was fast becoming reality and if she lost it . . . then what was left?
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Author's Note: Okay, first of all I hope you like this chapter. I'm already halfway done with the next chapter, but I need feedback before I posted it on whether you like it or not. Otherwise I'm just going to take it down. So I hope you like it, and please review.
Rating: pg13?
Disclaimer: I don't own Sentinel, but I do own this character, which I won't name fully yet. Please don't sue or anything, I have little value or possessions. And you wouldn't want the Cat I do have, he'll tell no tales.
Author's note: Well, ummm, this chapter doesn't have any Sentinel characters in it. But the next one will, I promise. So don't flame till you read the second. This is considered AU anyway, so all I can tell you is it's going to get weird. This is supposed to be set about six months after my last story, which is about two years ago. So if you're still game keep reading. Hope you like it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was free, that's all she could think of as the plane took off. And as she drew farther and farther away from that place, the pain began to dull and for the first time in nearly eleven months it was like she was truly awake. No more beatings, no more yelling, no more nights huddled in bed trying to make the right mixture of face paint to suit her skin so she could cover the bruises, no more soaking her fingers in hot water or putting ice-packs on them to reduce the swelling so she could type the next day. She was free from that, free from him, and free from the person she had became in those eleven months. I am not Tara. Yes, that was right. She was free from that name again as well, and she didn't have to hear it again unless she wanted to. I am Rain. Yes, she could possess her nickname again, not have to hide the name they had given her. The name that made her feel so loved and wanted, one of the few they had for her. I am Michelle. Yes, her true name, the name she would always keep because of her mother. I am an Obitan. Yes, she was an Obitan, and she would stay one this time because that was whom she was.
As the seatbelt sign went out, she unbuckled the belt and pulled out her laptop. She ran her fingers over it possessively, lovingly as she looked at the drawing (laminated) and held to the top by pretty stickers. Her picture, the one her baby sister had drawn for her would always be with her. And this, her laptop, the one she had saved months to buy, and had saved even longer to get all the extras and software added to it. It was hers. Yes, she had saved and bought it on her own without anyone's help, the first thing she had bought with the money she had earned from her part-time job. She had bought other things; like the comfortable clothes, pretty cosmetics, the soft nightgowns and lingerie, and even the few pieces of jewelry in her carry on were all bought with the money from the paycheck she had earned.
There was more, she had bought more from that hellhole. The things she had cherished and loved, and had given her comfort when she had so desperately needed it. She had left nothing of herself there, except her love for her sister and mother . . . and the hatred of him, and the letter and box under her sister's pillow. Everything else she had taken, even the photos of her face, she had taken from their frames or books or stored places. All but a few; the two in her mother's and sister's purses, the two on the walls, and the one sitting on her mother's night stand. The one in her father's wallet she had even taken, leaving only the nine-year old family portrait wallet he had left.
They're would be no current photos of her in that house, only the few old ones she had left in her mother and sister's purses. There would be no current photos to give to the police, not without tracking them down, and her friends wouldn't give her parents the photos. Only if the police asked would they give them up. She was glad she had gone ahead and given them two copies each before she left. She was also glad she had said good-bye to her friends, and her teachers. She had made sure her absence was understood and that she would stay discreetly in touch with them.
She also knew that all of them, her friends and teachers alike, would cooperate with the police at the barest minimum and would give her father hell as well. They would make sure to let her baby sister's teachers know to look for signs after she left, to even contact her aunts and uncles to watch if need be. They would in short, keep her father busy and give the police little to go on.
By tomorrow she would be in Virginia, in her beloved mountains, and packing the few other things up there she would need. She would stay one night with her Gran, make sure Whiskers, her cat, was checked out by a vet, and then leave in the morning for her final destination. By then her stuff would be already there and her new Ids would be made. She'd be able to hide, and they would never make her go back.
Checking her watch, she estimated it would be at least three hours before she landed for the stop over. It would last a little over an hour and she could eat then before catching her next flight to home. Right now she needed to plan, to make lists for what she needed to do. Slipping headphones over her ears, and booting up her laptop, she glanced out the window at the clear, star-filled sky and wished on the crescent moon for this not to go wrong. She couldn't lose this dream, for it was fast becoming reality and if she lost it . . . then what was left?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note: Okay, first of all I hope you like this chapter. I'm already halfway done with the next chapter, but I need feedback before I posted it on whether you like it or not. Otherwise I'm just going to take it down. So I hope you like it, and please review.