FYI: Title means "Just the way you are".

~Info and Part 1~

Name: Lea Williams

Alliace: Quebec

Age: Technically, she was born in 1763 so, in 2011, she'd be 248. But she looks 16. Keep that in mind. Confusing… I know.

Height: 5'9"

Looks: Waist length hair that was bleached white. Bangs to chin, brushed over left eye and dyed teal blue. Grey-blue eyes. Usually wears blue eye shadow and thick black eyeliner. Pale fair skin. Has a icicle tattoo circling her right bicep. She wears a lot of leather, black, ripped clothes, real skinny jeans, converses or boots, studs, etc.

Background: Her family (meaning all the other Canadian provinces as her siblings, Canada as her father, and America and England as her Uncles) has pretty much deemed her as the punk and the rebel.

Let's begin.

...

"LEA! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?"

"No, actually, I'm not."

And why would I be listening to him?

All dad ever did was criticize my clothes or my attitude or my actions or my opinions or anything that had to do with me.

So, here we were again, in the kitchen. I was sitting at the bar with my leather clad feet propped up on the top of the counter. My arms were crossed over my chest and I was leaning back with my closed eyes to the sky.

Dad stood across from me while Uncle Alfred was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

Uncle Arthur was sitting right next to me in a very polite manner.

God, I hated these people.

Uncle Arthur smacked me upside the head, jolting me awake; I was on the border of falling asleep.

"Pay attention to your father. And get your feet off the table."

He pushed my feet off the counter top, much to my distain.

Dad started back at the beginning of his lecture.

"This is the billionth time that you have tried to run away from home."

Uncle Alfred decided to chime in.

"Not to mention the fact that you tried to steal from the families back account before you left."

Uncle Arthur joined the mud-slinging fest.

"What makes you think you'll last a day, out on your own?"

I pointed right at Uncle Alfred.

"If that dunder-head can do it, so can I."

Dad took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "You're not Alfred. You're just not as strong as he is."

'Oh, here we go with the whole commercial.'

I stared out the window while dad went on & on & on. It was dark grey outside and it was starting to lightly snow.

God, if dad was gonna go on about how I can't survive on my own, then why can't he make it so that I can survive at home?

I don't like everything that my family likes. They were all bred by Arthur and brought up on the English ways.

Those things never interested me.

And everyone resented me for it.

My siblings were merciless to me. My father didn't even give me a chance to grow and learn on my own.

And Uncle Arthur was the worst among them.

He treated me like dirt.

I always got this feeling that I reminded him of an old arch enemy, or something like that. And, because I resemble this mystery enemy, he takes out all his anger of that person out on me.

An outcast in my own family.

No one deserves that.

Fists slammed against the table.

"LEA! YOU'RE NOT PAYING ATTENTION!"

"Yeah, because, I pretty much have this speech memorized. Time to come up with something new, dad."

That sent him through the roof.

"THAT'S IT! GO TO YOUR ROOM!"

I glared at him and pushed myself from the table.

"Fine. Anything to get away from the worst family ever.

I marched right out of the room and up the stairs.

All my older siblings were poking their heads out of there rooms, trying to see and hear everything that was going on.

When ever I passed by one of them, I stopped right in front of the door, glared at them, and made a move like I was gonna beat them up.

Every time I did this, they would get scared and slam their doors shut. Some, even locked their doors.

I got to my room at the end of the hall and slammed the door shut, locking it behind me.

~Meanwhile. Downstairs~

Mathew sat down at the table and ran his hands through his hair.

He was exahsted.

He was made.

He was upset.

He was frustrated.

He was sad.

He breathed a sigh.

"We've been doing this practically everyday for the past year now. Why can't we ever get it right?"

Arthur patted him on the back.

"You're not doing anything wrong. She's just going through a stupid rebellious phase. She'll grow out of it and then she'll be a proper young lady."

Some how, Mathew got a feeling that Arthur was wrong.

~Back to Lea~

I finished tying my bed sheets together.

The result was a long rope.

Like hell I was staying my room on a Saturday night.

I tied one end of the long rope to my bed post and flung the other end out the window.

I grabbed my-off-the-shoulders leather jacket, put it on and zipped it up.

I lowered myself down the rope until I was about two feet from the ground.

I jumped down and made a beeline for the woods.

I navigated myself through the woods that I had been through so many times as light snow started layering the ground.

After about 15 minutes of walking, I came out of the woods and found myself in Quebec City.

My city.

It was so beautiful on winter nights.

This place was my sanctuary.

I walked through the little streets, enjoying the light from the street lamps.

'This is right. I'm at peace. This is how it should be.'

"Well, well, well."

'So much for being at peace.'

I turned around and glared at that smug little man.

"Here's the little Canadian Princess."

"Shove off, Greenland."

"No need to be so formal, min dejlige."

"How many times do i have to tell you? Stop calling me that and leave me alone, pervert."

I turned on my heel to walk away but he grabbed my forearm and made me look at him.

"Don't leave yet. The night is young. Life is short. You are…"

He started ogling my chest.

I brought fist back to punch him.

"Excusez-moi?"

I looked behind me.

Min dejlige-My lovely(Danish)