I had always been a good girl. I followed every rule laid before me, and I never took anything that wasn't mine. However, it seemed like my entire life I was shit on. Have you ever heard the expression bad things happen to good people? I'm a firm believer in that due to experience. My bad luck started when I was just a bean inside my mother's stomach. My father died in the line of duty. He was a fireman, and was saving someone from a burning building when it collapsed and killed them both. I was often reminded by my mother how much I look like him.

"I can't really explain it, Rayma." She would say with a smile, "You have that pale skin, big blue eyes, and jet black hair. You couldn't look any more like him if you tried."

My mother was always a rock for me. We understood each other immensely, and up until I was ten, she was all I had. Que the abusive stepdad now. My mother married Roy when I was ten while I was at camp. Roy wasn't so bad at first, until he started climbing in my bed after my first period. I never told my mother though. I just didn't want to ruin the life she had built around us on lies and false promises. After marrying Roy, my mother was no longer my mother.

I watched as her beautiful blonde locks slowly began falling out in wads, and her Colgate teeth slowly turning a nasty color of yellow. By this time, I was merely fifteen and I had no idea what was going on with her. However, now being 25, I knew my mother was on meth. That's why we would move so often, because once the police officers where onto them, her and Roy would pack my things up and we were off to another town. This is how I lived up until the day I turned eighteen. That's the day I said sayonara to the two of them and went to university. Luckily being molested and abused motivated me to do well in school, so I could go from God knows what rural North Dakota town all the way to New York City to study at NYU.

Now, I'm in medical school. I'm in my third year, and for the past few months I've been understudying with a mortician inside of another small town. Mystic Falls, Virginia. I had been going back and forth but the strain was too much, so I made the decision to do the rest of my schooling online and move to the small town.

"You really have a lot of books." I heard a voice behind me inquiry, I turned to see my friend Matt carrying two boxes.

Besides the mortician I work for, Matt Donovan was the only person I knew it town. He worked for the police force, and had been in the lab my first day at work.

"I'm just saying, deputy, there has been 4 animal attacks in the past month. To me, it's suspicious."

Matt's muscular back had been turned to me as I waited at the front door for Joyce to see me.

"We're trying our best to catch it." Was all he said, before turning around and meeting eyes with me. He had smiled gently.

"You must be Rayma!" I heard Joyce say in a chipper voice.

I smiled at Matt now, taking one of the boxes from him. "It's not my fault I happen to enjoy the classics.

"Well, most of these are books I never read in high school."

"What a shame." I teased, putting the box in the middle of my living room.

I loved my new apartment. It was right in the middle of town, and I had to walk up a flight of stairs to get to it. I lived right above the Mystic Grill. It had a big living room with cream carpet, which was currently cluttered with boxes and a couch I had against the east wall. Right in front of the living room was a hall with wood floors, which lead to the kitchen. In the hall was two wooden doors: my bathroom and bedroom. It was small; however, it was mine.

"It's got to suck going to the laundry matt." Matt said, flopping down on my couch.

"It won't be so bad."

"Oh, you're going to meet some of Virginia's finest there."

I laugh, setting at his feet, unpacking some boxes.

"If you ever want, you can do laundry at my place."

I smile up at him, "Well, I appreciate the offer but since I'm one of Virginia's finest now, I'll stick with the community laundry."

He laughed again, "Suit yourself stubborn ass. I think we got everything moved in."

I glance around me, and he was right. All my boxes from NYU where here.

"I really appreciate your help." I reply, stacking Catcher in the Rye on top of my leaning tower of classic novels.

"Anytime, I couldn't imagine doing anything else with my Sunday."

I roll my eyes, "Like you have anything else to do."

"I have to serve in protect the town of Mystic Falls."

"From what, animals?"

He arches his brow at me, I assume he remembered the conversation I walked in on almost a month ago. Since that day, there have been two more animal attacks.

"Yes." He simply stated, looking down at me with a look that seemed almost challenging.

"I've seen some of those wombs, Matt. What kind of animal could do that?"

"That's official police business." He said serious, but then cracked a smile.

I laughed with him, playfully slapping his foot, before climbing to my feet.

"Do you want some coffee?" I asked, walking down my hall. I heard him follow.

"Out of all the things, I should have known that you would unpack the coffee pot first."

"Force of habit." I say, putting everything in the pot, pressing on.

I leaned against my counter as Matt awkwardly stood in the middle of my kitchen. There were windows all behind me, and the warmth of the sun felt lovely on my back. He ran a hand through his sandy hair.

"What are you doing later, say around five?"

I looked at him quizzically, "Drinking coffee."

He laughed, "I'm serious."

"Hell, I don't know, nothing."

"Well, an old friend of mine will be in town, and is throwing a BBQ. Why don't you come with me?"

"Matt Donovan, are you asking me on a date?"

"You could call it that." He said shyly.

I smiled softly at him, "I think it would be a wonderful time."

His bright eyes lit up, "Great! I thought I would ask because you could make a lot of friends."

I'm sure that's exactly why you asked, I thought, grabbing a mug from the cabinet behind me, filling it up.

"I'm going to go on some rounds." He said, "I'll be by to get you around four."

"Sounds like a plan, Stan."

I watched as he left, and my eyes found the clock on the stove; 12PM. Time to read some case notes.