This is my first fanfiction, so hopefully you will like this! Please tell me if there's anything wrong, so I can learn. I know it's long and it takes a while for any plot, I'm sorry!

I know no one's heard of me, so I should probably tell you that my name's Skyler Thomas. I'm pretty unspectacular. My hair's ginger, and they barely reach my shoulders. My eyes are mossy green, but it's not like it's beautifully green. It's like a more washed out version of my mother's emerald eyes. I have a pretty petite frame, but I'm really good at softball. See? Nothing special. In fact, the only thing that's really cool about me is that I'm going to go to Russia twice. Once, it'll be to visit, and the second time is when I'll live there to become a physical therapist.

As I was walking back home with my friend Thomas, I mentioned my plans to him.

"Are you sure your mom isn't going to steal your money and gamble with it this time?" He asked.

"Of course not! I'm paying for her to come too!" I exclaimed.

He still looked unconvinced, that dirty-blonde haired nerd. "I don't know. My brother once gambled my parents wedding rings away, because he thought he had a streak of good luck," he said lowly.

"She wouldn't do that. She knows how much this means to me."

"I hope so, Skylar. See you tomorrow!" he waved goodbye, as we parted ways. All the rest of the walk home, I only had my thoughts to talk to. Something that Thomas said bothered me. Would Mom really gamble my money away? Lately, she's been giving me these awfully guilty looks, like I'm some animal she accidentally ran over with a truck. She's been coming home in those waning hours of the morning, too. Was she really working overtime I'd be lying to myself if I said Mom had never gambled in her life, but it was a big bite to chew on to think that she'd betray me like that. Especially when I'm the one buying the ticket.

It could of been my imagination, but I thought I had heard a voice at the time. A quiet, raspy voice that whispered to me, 'It's not really that hard to imagine someone betraying your dreams.'

Mom smiled at me when I walked inside my house. "It's Youth Group tonight!" she said cheerfully. The atmosphere was so cheerful and nice that I could almost forget my feelings of doubt.

"I don't think I can come tonight. I was thinking about hanging out with some friends, actually," I replied as I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from the jar.

"Oh, honey. You should come. It's your last meeting of the school year!" she insisted.

"Alright, I guess." I sighed and reached for my phone. Usually, on last meetings we usually just play kickball, anyway.

"Alright, guys. Before we go play kickball, are there any prayer requests?" my pastor boomed in his loud, loud voice, making me wince. A small cluster of kids raised their hands, including me.

The big man picked on the black haired boy beside me, Harris. "My sister's cat's givin' birth soon," he said colly. As I stared at him, I took note of his dark brown eyes and olive skin. He laid out on the metal chair with crossed legs askew. On anyone else, it would've looked incedibly uncomfortable, but he made it look so easy and relaxing. Ignoring my pastor's ill-attempted short-talk with him, I studied his amazing black hair. Gosh, Harris was so cool. He's was so cool that he could probably make a lava flow an ice burg.

In fact, his coolness was so mesmorizing that I didn't even notice Pastor was waiting for what my prayer request was. A light pat from the girl behind me was what brought me back to Earth, where I was greeted by the disapproving gaze of my Pastor. "Oh!" I nervously stammered, "Uh, well... Pray for my trip to Russia, I guess..."

My pastor's face lit up, and he boomed cheerfully, "Oh, yeah! Of course, you've been working hard for that."

I felt my face flush red from the attention as I nodded nervously. He got the que and moved onto the next person's request.

Kickball was never my strongest sport. I mean, I'm a pitcher, not a kicker. Of course, I played the game. I'm not a wimp, like some of the more popular girls stringing along the edge of the field are. However, let me just say that I was more than relieved when the pastor called us back into the church for ending prayer. Everyone buzzed around, as we were all anxious to get out of the church and go home. Tired from the two whole hours of kickball, I flopped into the car with a heavy sigh.

"Looks like you had fun," Mom smiled.

I groaned and looked up at the mini-van ceiling. The car roared as we drove off the parking lot and into the interstate.

"What? It wasn't?" Mom asked, surprised.

"It was alright, but I'm glad it's over." I sighed.

The sigh was returned, and Mom shrugged, "Fine, what else did you do?"

"Nothing. Stop asking questions," I said, a bit irritated. Suddenly, it struck me that right now was the perfect moment to see if Mom's been secretly gambling off my travel money.

"I simply cannot wait for visiting Russia with you," I said as innocently as I could. It sounded utterly fake, so I hoped Mom didn't notice.

Just for a split second, my mom winced. "Y-yeah.." she muttered unenthusiastically.

My distrust was rising like a cold thermometer placed in a boiling pot of water. "I bet Papa's really proud of us," I sweetly said.

"Yes, I think so too," she said sadly and softly, "He would of been so proud that you're finally granting that goal of his."

Uh oh. That wasn't the reaction I was expecting. "He would be devastated if something happened and I couldn't
go..." I tried again.

"What are you saying?" Mom slowly asked. A traffic light turned red, so she took her eyes off the road and stared at me.

"I'm saying, it would be a total travesty if something happened and you gambled all my travel money away," I growled.

The light turned green, and she drove off a little too fast as she gasped, "Oh, honey! You know I could never do that! This means too much to you!"
"Really? How come you've been coming home at 3 o'clock in the morning? Come on, we all know that you aren't really working overtime." I said with a small sneer.
Mom twisted her lips into a frown. "Alright, I've been going with some friends to a club downtown," she admitted, "But I haven't gambled at all!"

'Liar.'

"How long has this been going on?!" I demanded.

"I've been doing going there for a month, once every two weeks. Honey, I only go as the designated driver. You know Lila has horrible luck, and I want to make sure that she doesn't get in a wreck drunk,' she said softly, and lowered her piercing emerald eyes to the dusty dashboard.

I could feel my own eyes widen. I guess I never really thought about Mom going to clubs for her friends, rather than herself. "Then why do you act so nervous when I bring up the trip?!" I demanded, after flashes of her suspiously guily behavior came to my mind.

To my surprise, her whole face turned beet red. "I'm afraid of planes, and bringing Russia up keeps reminding me of all those hours we'll be up in the air," she admitted quietly.

"Planes?" I exclaimed, "How come I never know about that?!"

Already, we were in the driveway. She turned to me, and said, "You seemed so excited, and I don't want to spoil that. I was planning on taking sleeping pills for the ride anyway."

"Sorry..." I whimpered.

Inside the house, the voice suddenly returned.

'You're such a Mommy's girl,'the voice in my head whispered.

"She's always been kind to me, though," I thought back to it, "Even after Papa's accident, she was always strong for me."

'I wouldn't be so sure she's strong, child. You're just weak. It wouldn't surprise me when someone out there ruins your plans, because you were too weak.'

Hello! This is my first fanfiction on here, so hopefully it goes well. There's no Hetalia in here yeeet, but it's coming soon! Very, very soon! I just wanted to let everyone get to know the characters a bit. I'm kind of a long writer, I'm sorry. I hope you liked this, and don't forget to vote and comment!