"No matter what happens...you will always be our daughter, and we will always love you. We will come for you...Dawn."

I sit up in bed. I rub my eyes and look at the alarm clock by my bed. It's five thirty in the morning. I recall the strange dream I had. It felt so real. But I know that it wasn't. My parents never came for me. I spent years, wishing that they would. Hoping. I wished on every falling star. Wished on every birthday candle, and anything that I could. I was clinging to every last bit of hope, that one day, I would be able to leave the orphanage with my parents. My biological parents.

One of the few memories of my parents is that they both had stunning blue eyes, and my father had a deep voice. But that's about it.

I sigh, getting out of bed to fix some breakfast. I live alone in a small apartment in Carson City, Nevada. Everyone always was scared of me. To put things simple, if you pissed me off enough, I would dig something up. Weather it was a secret stash of sweets that you swiped from the candy store, or a particularly juicy page in your diary, all depended on how much you pissed me off.

I'm only around five feet tall. I'm thin. My skin is evenly tanned. My hair is dark and wavy, ending just below my shoulders. I am wearing a pair of pink sweats and a blue T-shirt.

It's a Saturday, my day off. I work at a small cafe called "The Midtown Cafe," as a waitress. I usually get good tips. But, let's face it. It kinda boring. I'm not complaining, I just want something more. I want to accomplish something. I want to be able to pull out a picture in the future, and show my grandchildren, and children, and say, "You see that, I did that. Life screwed me over, and I laughed, and turned around and did that. Life gave me lemons, and I made orange juice. And you can do something even greater."

I want to do something worth my life.

I pull out the dozen mini cupcakes I had bought the previous day. I look sarcastically at them. My birthday.

Yay.

I stick the two candles in two of them, and call it good. I look at the number.

20.

Today, I am twenty years old.

Twenty years, I've been alive. Twenty years, I've wished for my parents to come for me. Twenty years I've wanted something more. I'm done wishing on my parents. They left me on a doorstep. I'm fine with that. They promised to come for me, and didn't. I'm fine that. They leave a note, saying how much they love me, and how sorry they are. That is what gets me. If they really loved me, why won't they say why the left me. If they're really sorry, then why not come tell me. I still get cards. They all end the same.

'Just remember, no matter what happens, you will always be our daughter, and we will always love you. We will come for you, Dawn.'

I've gotten nineteen of them. Every year, I get one.

I've left it alone, and kept all the cards, because it gave me hope that they really were coming. Usually there's some sort of present that comes with it. Sometimes, it's money, sometimes, it's a stuffed animal, and other times, it's something else.

I continue to stare at the candles. I shake my head. I strike a match, and light them. I let them burn for a few seconds.

I close my eyes.

"I wish," I think for a moment, reflecting on what I want. Suddenly I know. " I wish for...an adventure." I whisper to the candles, and blow them out.

I pick the candles out, and eat a cupcake. I stash the rest of them away in the fridge. I'll eat them later.

I trash the wrapper on my way out of the kitchen, and put my shoes on. I take the stairs outside. I start to walk my usual course.

When I say, "I want to accomplish something," I really don't know what. But then again, my life is pretty boring. I mean, come on. I'm a orphan waitress living alone in an apartment on the outskirts of Carson City, Nevada. I know I live in an actual city, but I've got very little money. Let's face the fact, that I don't just want to "accomplish something," I want to have fun. I guess I want an adventure. I've always wanted to go somewhere else. Like New York, or Paris, or Greece.

I suddenly find myself in the middle of a deserted highway. I look up to the still darkened sky. I see a streak fly across it.

I mentally roll my eyes at the universe. You know what universe? Fine. You want to give me a shooting star, fine. I'll give them one last wish.

I wish out loud, "I wish I could see my parents..."

Suddenly, a horn blares in my ears. I feel pain as I go airborne. I feel my face connect with the hard asphalt.

Everything hurts. My ears are ringing, and I can taste blood. I think I broke a few ribs. My arm hurts like hell, and I feel light headed.

I force my eyes open to get a good look at what hit me.

I see the end of yellow custom Camaro, and beside it, two Lamborghini's. One red and one yellow. I see my blood all over the Camaro's hood. Before I see anyone get out of the vehicles, I see black, and slip into unconsciousness.

A/N: Wow, I got this out a lot faster than I thought! If you see any spelling errors, than please let me know. Keep reading if you want more chapters! And don't forget to like, comment, and follow!

Kiss, Kiss!

~Saffy