A/N: hi! This is my first fanfic so please bear with me and give it a try! Enjoy!


Chapter 2- The Weakness of A Little Girl Named Jade/ A Reunion

Man do i hate this hill. I used to love it as a child but I was one dumb child. I remember when i first discovered this place.

I was about 5. Back when my favorite color was blue. What you thought i was going to say pink? Please i wasn't that dumb. You must have me mistaken for Cat. Anyways, my mom and dad were still together back then. They were arguing about something and it started to get gruesome. The screaming was so loud and boisterous. It made my eardrums ring. But it wasn't the screams that i couldn't take. I mean i could handle a little screaming. Compared to me thay sounded like little kitty cats. It was the objects flying everywhere. The glasses being thrown. The tables being turned over. Every precious item my mother treasured with all her heart and soul...destroyed. She loved all that stuff probably more than she loved me.

Just the look on her face made me want to cry. It was so defeated and tired. It was heartbroken and miserable.

And, though at the time i didn't quite get the feeling, it filled me with hate.

It was weak.

And Jade West doesn't do weak. Even back then.

So I tried to stop him.

My so called "father" from destroying not only the furniture but my mother's spirit. I un-covered my ears and ran downstairs. He had my mother cornered and her golden elephant she had brought when we traveled to India. My father had brought it for her for her birthday. It was probably her most prized possession. But,not because it was my father who bought it for her just to show how much he loved her; but because it was so expensive and it gave her a chance to brag about it to almost everyone who doubted we weren't the most perfect and richest family in the world.

I grabbed his arm shouting stop, only adding to the screams.

And that's when it happened.

Thats when he hit me.

Sure it was an accident but it still scared me. How he looked at me with so much bitterness in his eyes. An evil passion, an animated rage. He was a monster. He wasn't my 'daddy' or 'dad or even my 'father'. He was a menace. A beast.

It was stupid because that look wasn't meant for me. But it still hurt.

So i ran out of that miserable hell house. I ran so fast and so abrupt, it killed. I didn't care if he ran after me or called my name or even try to apologize. I just wanted to get out. Such a beautiful house. So big and luxurious. But to me it felt more like a prison. I didn't know where i was going or if i would even go back but i sure as hell wasn't going to stop. The world was a blur. My life was a blur. All there was, was my tears, my hurt and my speed.

When i did finally stop i found myself on this exact hill. I loved it. It was so angelic and appealing yet also grotesque and ancient. I stayed here for hours, almost a whole day. I remember playing with the flowers; peeling the tree's bark; crying to no end; climbing the tree; rolling in the grass. It was my 'IT' place. My private sanctuary. After that day i would come here any time i was sad or mad or just wanted to get away.

But now, i HATE it.

Not just because it reminds me of how fragile i used to be, 's just so annoying with its itchy grass rubbing on my body. Elck and don't get me started on these stupid insects biting the shit out of me.

"I HATE YOU!" i say to no one in particular

And then something happens.

Wow the universe just loves me.

Thanks universe for raining on me!

Yippee...


There he is.

Beck Oliver. Even in this time, as a kid, was he quite handsome.

This is perhaps the most profound moment in my life. The day i met Beck. The day my life was changed.

It's December and, though its not snowing, its pretty cold for California. I'm sitting at a bus stop with a dead look on my face. I look pretty dumb as i am wearing is a dirty, thin, and white T-shirt. My sweat pants are ragged and worn. I'm shivering noticeably and my teeth are rattling. I'm about to close my eyes and, maybe if i'm lucky,die a slow death when a peculiar boy steps in front of me and speaks.

"Mr., are you cold?"

I just stare at him with the same blank expression.

"Are you homeless?"

More silence.

The little boy walks next to me and climbs onto the seat beside me.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE WORDS THAT ARE COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH!" he says, shouting and using hand gestures.

"Yes." I finally answer covering my ears.

This seems to please the boy and he smiles. Im dazed for a while as this little boy has perhaps the most magnificent smile i have ever seen.

"You want my jacket?"

"...No."

" Are you waiting for the bus?"

"No."

"Do you-"

"Why so many questions?"

"You seem sad and I don't like that. Its makes me sad. Maybe if you know i care about you you'll be happy. And then i'll be happy. Then we can make the whole world happy!"

The way he says it is so deep sand compassionate, it makes my heart well and, for the first time in weeks, i smile.

A real genuine smile.

"Good your smiling that's step one!" he says excitingly

"How old are you, kid?"

"I'm 7."

"What are you doing here by yourself?"

"Hey this is not about me its about you. I'm the big boy in this conversation. Now what are YOU doing here by yourself?"

"Just thinking, kid."

He turns his head side to side as to be sure of knowing where he's at.

"Here? Now? But its soooooo cold, Mr.!"

The little boy takes his jacket off and wraps it around me. Then he takes his backpack off his shoulder, for which i haven't noticed.

"Do you have a pencil? Oh, wait! I think i have one!"

The way this kid talks is so engaging. It's like bells. So symphonic. Yet it's still smooth and relaxed. Laid back yet expressive. Meaningful and as if he's saying something of great importance. You could listen to him talk all day. Anything he says, no matter how ridiculous, is excellence and you feel the need to pay attention. He has you hanging on his every word. Also there is just something about him that feels you with calmness. But there's something in his eyes. I can't decipher what it is but its so strong and mysterious. It probably would be scary if not for his friendly attitude and calm demeanor. Wow. He's quite brilliant for a 7 year old.

He pulls out a crayon and paper and writes something down. Next he grabs my hands-

"I hope you don't have rabies."

-and places the paper in it while gently closing it. Then he gives me a gentle smile and runs off. Gone as soon as he came.

"What a kid." I say aloud

I smile at myself and watch as a younger version of me opens the paper and smile a 2nd smile. Home run! It was especially rare for me to smile at that time. I already know that the paper holds his address and phone number. I also know that it has a black smiley face with a speech bubble saying,

'Lets be hapy togethar'.

I still have in my pants pocket. I've kept it as a reminder of the start of my life. Though now i think it was a bit scary and irresponsible to give a grown man who is a stranger your house number and address.

Oh, well. Beck did have strange ways.