A/N: Hey guys, I'm Bianca, or B, whatever the frigg u wanna call me.
This is my first fanfic, so constructive criticism and future advice and suggestions will come in useful.
AANNDD, if you wanna talk (coz I love talking with people) you can talk to me on:
Kik: tokyoghxul
Oovoo: (The above)
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Bye and enjoy!
I don't own the characters, just the plot and if the plot is somehow similar to someone else's, I'm sorry but I didn't copy.
Chapter 1 ~ The Past and Current Affairs
Sebastian
"Sebastian, why don't you relax? Nothing will happen, we're in the middle of nowhere." My father turned his head slightly to the back of the car where I sat, behind my mother. He pressed the accelerator and I tensed up even more. I don't like relaxing, the moment you relax, tragedies happen. My mother sighed and lifted a hand to smooth back her raven black her which I had inherited from her. We drove in silence. Normally wed be engaged in a conversation as a family but I was in tension and snapped back at whatever my parents said to me so they gave up.
Two hours later, I decided that the country road posed no threat as we hadn't had an encounter with another car in half an hour. My muscles relaxed against my will and at that moment, a white van skidded into view. The car spun to avid collision, but the back of the van smashed into the hood of the car, sending glass shards everywhere. I was lucky enough to just have a few scratches on my arms, face and legs but my parents were much worse. The front of the car was bathed in blood and there were no movements from where they sat. I lurched forward to check their breathing.
"Mom! Dad!" I shook them and repeated those two words over and over. I was on the border of insanity and I didn't realize when my father whispered my name. I missed it. I missed his last word, his last breath. I couldn't stand being in the car anymore. I struggled to find a way out and I eventually managed to break the car door allowing me to escape from the strong smell of blood. I breathed the fresh air in and felt my head clear.
My parents' death fell on my shoulders and I let out a muffled cry. We'd been close as a family, and I never expected them to meet their deaths like this. And me being the one to witness it. I had no phone so I couldn't call any emergency services, which meant I also couldn't call anyone to save me from the country road. I mustered all my courage to crawl back inside the car and try to find my dad's cell but after I stuck my hand into his pocket, I only found sharp segments of metal and glass. I sighed. I collapsed onto the road with my back leaning against the hedge framing the road. I sighed again and hung my head.
I don't know how long I sat there for but after what seemed like an eternity, another car drove past and came to a slow stop in front of where I was sitting. The window rolled down to reveal a fairly young-looking woman with vibrant red hair falling to her shoulders. My first thought was that she didn't seem threatening nor capable of harming me. Therefore, I stayed where I was.
"Would you like to borrow my phone?" she smiled and glanced at the car wreck beside me. I nodded, at a loss for words after my traumatizing experience. She smiled and reached for her phone. "Oh, it's out of battery," she turned towards the back seat, "Ciel, would you mind lending me your phone for a moment?"
"Oh yes, I mind very much, thank you." I heard a monotone voice from the back of the car. The two argued for a while before the redheaded woman turned back to me with a phone in her hand.
"Thank you." I bowed my head slightly and then typed in a number. I didn't have any friends as I was home-schooled so I would have to rely on my father's co-workers to be available, even if I didn't trust them. I called five of my father's friends but they were all strangely busy but they all passed massages of sorrow onto me. "Thank you for lending me your phone, I'll be making my own way back."
The woman sighed and shook her head. "You should thank my nephew. If no one can come get you, would you like me to drive you?" The redhead offered.
"Yes please." I looked down, holding back tears.
"You can go round the back." The woman smiled. "Where to?" I told her the name of my street and nothing else for safety. She nodded and sped off. My muscles tensed all over again. To distract myself, I looked over at the occupied seat and its occupier. He looked about two or three years younger than me and had captivating blue eyes. His hair had a strange blue tint to it, the opposite of his aunt's. Ciel. Ciel. It fit him perfectly. His gaze met mine and I averted my glance before he could say anything.
The air was thick with silence and I thought of how my life would change when I returned. I wouldn't be able to live by myself, and I have no living relatives to look after me. Would I be able to pull off living by myself until someone found out? Before I knew it, the car pulled up at the edge of my street. I thanked the woman quickly and darted out. But then I realized, why didn't I call the Police?
"I recommend a bucket list, it will help you. And keep you willing to live." My therapist scribbled something down on her clipboard. "If you're able to complete your bucket list, then I won't really care what do you with yourself later."
Over these past two years, I'd been found living alone, sent to a foster home and was under the care of someone who was barely home, maybe once a fortnight. And I'd also gained a suicidal and depressed mind. Hence, Tuesdays with my therapist had become torture. I thought over what she had just said. A bucket list didn't seem that bad. But I couldn't see how this would keep me anchored to life.
"I expect to see at least five things on your bucket list by next week's appointment." She stood up and ushered me towards the door. Her grip loosened on my arm slightly and she looked at me in sympathy. "I really am sorry for you and your parents."
I scowled, she told me this every week and I was getting tired of it. I was tired of all the apologetic glances directed at me on the streets after my parents' deaths showed up in the newspaper the next month. And most of all, tired of life, tired of having no one.
"I also recommend getting a job, it'll give you something to do. You can earn money towards completing you bucket list." She shoved me out the door. "Nothing dirty!" My therapist yelled after me.
When I got home, I hesitated before sitting at the kitchen table with a pen and a piece of paper. I gave an exasperated sigh and twirled the pen in my hand. I didn't know where to start. When I was small, I'd always wanted a cat. And so I wrote: 1. Get a cat. I rose from the chair and made myself a coffee, making it two shots stronger than usual.
2: Visit a foreign country.
I gave up for the night and decided I'd sleep on it. But in the morning, I still didn't have any new ideas. I threw on a loose t-shirt and washed jeans and went out to buy more coffee as, much to my displeasure, I found that I used the last of it last night. A new shop caught my eye, a Victorian styled tea room. I'd never been a fan of tea. A little pink slip of paper was hung on the entrance with bold letters reading: HIRING. I'd been presented with a job. I cautiously pushed the door open and headed inside. And I left with a part time job, working three hours every afternoon but Sunday.
3: Get a tattoo.
4: Buy a huge house.
When I got back to the apartment I immediately collapsed onto my bed. I forgot to buy the goddamn coffee.
Present Day
I was woken up by the banshee-like shriek of my alarm and groaned. School had been draining me out and I fainted on my bad as soon as I got back. 2:30pm, half an hour before my shift. I threw on the butler-like attire which unfortunately was my work uniform. I dashed out of the apartment with three minutes to get to my workplace and by the time I reached it, I was panting. I was bent over trying to supress my pants when my manager came over to inspect me. He flicked a leaf off of my shoulder and then grunted in satisfaction.
Between making tea and serving the customers, my hands were pretty much full. The first two hours of my shift were as uneventful as they were all the other days. The usual customers ordering the usual tea. But halfway during the third hour, a boy with strange blue-gray hair and striking blue eyes walked in.
Little did I know, that this boy would soon change my life completely.
