Tracey made her way up the stairs. She didn't want to listen to everyone else at the table fighting. She began to question whether having Erica here would be a good thing or a bad thing. The kid seemed rather harmless. That, and she was incredibly pretty in that cute way kids were. Deep down, the blonde knew she liked kids; well, as long as she wasn't responsible for them for more than a few hours. She decided Erica was at a good age- she could still have that childlike wonder as well as pour herself a glass of soda if she wanted one. Although, she had to admit, there wasn't too much childlike wonder at the dinner table. Perhaps she was simply nervous and on her best behavior.

Tracey glanced at the bathroom. No, she told herself, I will not puke. Daddy will love me, even if I'm fat. Struggling with an eating disorder was difficult, especially when her parents didn't openly acknowledge it. Jimmy had brought it up once when he was mad at her, but Amanda told him to be quiet and not be so critical. Her mother had given her quite the sad look before turning around and leaving the room.

Despite her best efforts, she did venture off into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She took her toothbrush and did what she had to do. Even though she did this often, the stomach acid still burned her esophagus. She gripped the toilet bowl, the mantra in her head continued. Nobody wants a fat daughter. Tears sprang to Tracey's eyes as she tried not to focus on her undigested dinner coming back up. Her father was rather superficial when it came to women. When he cheated on Amanda with that slut, Tracey noted how skinny she was and how her thighs didn't touch when she walked. The thigh gap she wanted to achieve, she felt, wasn't possible. But maybe if she continued to make herself sick, she wouldn't get any fatter.

Tracey heard the door to the bathroom open, but remained on the floor clutching the porcelain bowl. She was suddenly tired and flushed the toilet. She saw that it was Erica who had interrupted her, and Tracey desperately wanted to yell and scold the girl, but she couldn't bring herself to do that-not when the pretty blue eyes looked at her with sadness and concern. Silently, she held her hand out to her cousin. Tracey took the small hand. She didn't want to grasp it too tightly as the girl seemed delicate to her. The redhead was rather small for her age and she thought that if she clutched the hand too tight, she'd snap it right off.

Erica led her to the sink and searched the cabinets until she found the mouthwash. She poured it in the little plastic top carefully and handed it to her. Tracey was shocked that Erica had the courage to come in and take control of the situation. Erica began to hum a tune, something Tracey faintly recognized. She never thought a nine year old would be trying to comfort her. If anyone else tried to do this, the blonde would have yelled at them and told them to stop, leading to her slamming the door to her room and answering booty calls (something she hadn't done since she, Jimmy, and her mother came back home after they had left for a while as Amanda tried to figure things out).

Tracey swished the mouthwash around for a good minute to get the putrid taste out of her mouth before spitting into the sink. Tracey came out of her trance and came to her senses. "Stop it, Erica," she scolded when the girl took her hand to lead her away from the bathroom. "I can take care of myself. And you shouldn't barge in on people like that when they're in the bathroom!"

"You didn't lock the door," Erica shrugged.

"I just forgot," Tracey narrowed her eyes at her, clenching her fists. She wanted to hit Erica who had a serious and adult-like look on her face. The frown on her face reminded her of her mother, and she began to wonder if her aunt looked anything like Amanda. Despite the obvious differences, there were similarities. If Erica had darker features she'd definitely look like a mini Amanda.

"Did you?" Erica raised one of her eyebrows up high; it looked borderline comical yet it had some kind of odd elegance to it that Tracey didn't laugh or more like she couldn't laugh at it.

But this made Tracey realize that she hadn't meant to lock the door and she really did want her parents to walk in on her and help her through it. For some reason, her parents ignored her obvious flaws and need for attention and focused on other things. Currently, the hot topic of conversation was college and how Tracey was turning her life around. This girl had only been in their home for a day and she was already doing what her family failed to do for the past six years.

There was something menacing about Erica and how she stared her down. She looked so innocent in that purple dress of hers but one look in her eyes, Tracey could tell that there was something more to this girl that the naked eye couldn't pick up. "Being skinny isn't going to make you feel good about yourself," Erica said in a quiet voice. "You'll continue to hate and hate until you're a pile of bones and starving yourself to the point of no return. And when you take in your last few breaths, you'll be hating yourself one last time for letting yourself die at age thirty two," she said darkly and Tracey felt a shiver go up her spine.

"You're fucking creepy," Tracey backed away from her, but narrowed her eyes.

"Am I? Or are you just afraid of the truth?"

"Stop," Tracey whined. "Just shut up!"

"I don't hate you," Erica pointed out. "I'd like to get along. I always wanted a big sister!" And just like that, the adult part of Erica shut off and the child came out. She smiled when she looked up at Tracey, holding out her hand. There was something extremely intoxicating about this girl. Before she could make a decision of her own and before her brain even processed it, her hand was in Erica's. The girl led her into the guest bedroom down the hall.

Erica sat her on the bed and grabbed her hairbrush. She knelt behind the blonde and began to brush her hair gently, and Tracey had to admit, it did feel nice. Maybe if she tried hard enough she could pretend it was her mother who cared about her enough to say those words to her, to tell her it didn't matter whether she was overweight or thin. "I'm sorry if I scared you before," Erica said, making Tracey's fantasy disappear. She opened her eyes and could see herself in the mirror and she wondered why she was even tolerating this girl. "Sometimes I talk kind of funny because I pretend I'm in a book and then I forget other people don't know what I'm thinking," she explained.

"Yeah, well, you better watch it," Tracey warned and she narrowed her eyes.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Erica said as she continued to brush her blonde locks.

"You barely even know me. What gives you the right to barge in a bathroom like that when the door's shut? You better watch your back around here," she threatened. Tracey took the brush from Erica's hand and threw it onto the ground.

"I know that you're my cousin. I know we're strangers but I don't want to be."

"Why don't you go bother your other cousin? I want nothing to do with you. You shouldn't even be here."

"Because I don't think Jimmy likes me much," Erica shrugged.

"What? And you think I like you?" Tracey rolled her eyes and went to leave the bedroom.

"Probably not. Not a lot of people like me anyway," Erica said as if it was nothing.

"You had no right to say that back there, about me and about what I do."

"Maybe I didn't. But I think I'm the first one to take you seriously." Tracey left the bedroom and slammed the door after Erica said that. Everything that stupidly intelligent nine year old said was very true. For the first time in years, Tracey shut her bedroom door and locked it as she let silent tears fall down her face. These were real tears and they hurt terribly. She hated how right that girl was and she most definitely hated how Erica was the first one to take her seriously in a long time.

She leaned over her vanity and looked at herself in the mirror. She scowled at her teary eyes and blotchy cheeks. She sat down and angrily applied her makeup. She was most definitely going out and she was going to have fun. "Fuck you, Erica," Tracey snarled before she changed her outfit and put on a small black dress and high silver heals. She was going to a club and she was going to party until three or four in the morning. She sneaked through her window expertly after grabbing her phone and purse. She fushed out her car keys and got into her small yellow car. She started it and sped off to the nearest club her friends would be in.

She began her night drinking quite a bit, but slowed down after a few hours. For some reason, partying wasn't fun anymore. She hadn't been out to the clubs since last summer before the semester started. Had it really been that long? Suddenly, making herself drunk wasn't fun nor was grinding up against a random stranger who wanted nothing but to sleep with her. Was her self-esteem that horrible? She cursed at herself when she realized she should be studying for finals. Had she become that boring? "Tracey, you're like super boring tonight! What's up with you?" one of her friends asked in an annoyed tone. The club music was suddenly becoming too loud, the bass vibrating everything around her.

"I don't know," Tracey said, when in reality, she did know because she couldn't get Erica's act of kindness out of her head, as well as those horrid words she spoke. But everything about them was true.

"It's because you went to college, isn't it? You've changed," another girl spoke up. "And you totally haven't changed for the better. I mean, look what you're wearing! A black dress? And it isn't even that short!" Tracey looked down and saw that the dress was short, but not short enough. She didn't know what to say as her five friends began to gang up on her.

"What a fucking nerd."

"She's totally out of her element. She hasn't been out since the summer."

"Totally abandoning us."

"Stop it! I didn't abandon you guys!" Tracey exclaimed. "I just wanted to go to college."

"Why? What happened to fuck responsibilities and party hard until the sun comes up? You've totally changed."

"I had, like, a long talk with my dad and I realized I had to do something, you know? I couldn't just keep partying for the rest of my life," Tracey tried to reason with them.

"Listen, Tracey," the girl who had initially started talking put a hand on Tracey's shoulder. "I get it."

"You do?" Tracey asked, bewildered.

"Yeah, totally. You're in love with your dad." The girls began to laugh hysterically at that. Tears came to her eyes as Tracey yelled at them to stop; it most definitely wasn't true! "Go home and fuck him, you whore! He likes your type anyway. Wasn't the stripper he fucked a blonde with big tits?"

"Fuck you!" Tracey yelled. She desperately wanted to slap her, however, five against one wasn't really in the blonde's odds. She decided to just walk away from it, turning her back towards those girls. Why had she been friends with them? They had nothing going for them other than becoming strippers themselves or getting into the porn industry. Tracey had tried the latter once, but realized how degrading it was once she actually watched herself.

"We just want the best for you!" the girl shouted. "I'll text you!" Tracey got into her car, ignoring the shouts from her so called friends, and drove off despite being somewhat drunk. She arrived home safely against all odds, and sneaked into the house considering it was almost two in the morning. She became nervous when she noticed the living room light on, afraid that Michael would be sitting in the chair and waiting for her to come home. She decided to just face the music and approached the living room where she took a deep breath to face her father.

Only, when she entered the room, it wasn't her father, but Erica, who was sitting on the floor with paper and crayons. She had one of the music channels on and was listening to swing music quietly as she drew her picture. "Hi, Tracey," Erica said without looking at her. "I was wondering when you'd get back."

"Have you been waiting for me?"

"No," Erica shook her head and looked up. "I just couldn't sleep."

"Why not?" Tracey asked and sat on the couch, kicking off her heels.

"I'm just not used to this place yet. I can never sleep when I'm put in a new house," Erica explained.

"What are you drawing?" Tracey asked and looked down at the picture. It wasn't very good, but Erica never proclaimed to be an artist. It was just a person standing in the middle of the page. Her hair was brown and for some reason, her eyes were red and demonic.

"My mommy," she replied.

"Do you miss her?" Tracey asked, ignoring the red eyes and that creepy smile on her face.

"Not really. Well, maybe. She's my mommy so I love her no matter what, but I don't like what she does," Erica shrugged.

"Is that why her eyes are red?"

"Yeah," Erica nodded. "She's mean and nasty, but she's still my mommy." The redhead joined Tracey on the couch, sitting beside her. Tracey went to move away from her but decided not to. She was still angry with the girl for barging in on her like that."I like you. You were my favorite person on Fame or Shame. There. I admitted it."

"You watched Fame or Shame?"

"Yeah. And then when I found out you're my cousin, I was so excited. That's really why I agreed to come stay here. It was come here, or go to another foster home," Erica explained. "That's why I didn't like that you made yourself throw up," she shrugged. "I really look up to you."

"Wow. I, like, totally don't know what to say," Tracey said. "Thank you." That had been completely unexpected, but she had to admit, she had people tell her she was pretty good and that she should have won, not those masturbating monkeys. Of course, she agreed with them. She just didn't expect this from her cousin she never met before.

"Wanna dance with me?" Erica asked. She stood and turned the music up a little louder, but not too loud as she didn't want to wake up the others in the house.

"To this?" Tracey wrinkled her nose in disgust. "What is this? Old people music?"

"It's swing music," Erica replied. "Come on, it'll be fun!" she said and took Tracey's hands and pulled on them. Tracey stood and decided she should make a fan happy, even if it was her creepy little cousin. "I can show you the Charleston. I taught it to myself last summer," Erica suggested. She began to dance to the music, her feet moving quickly and Tracey had to admit the girl had some natural talent. Her body didn't move stiffly and awkwardly like most girls her age.

"What kind of dance is that?"

"The Charleston," Erica replied. "They used to dance like that in the twenties. I'm obsessed with the early 1900s," the red head explained.

"Why would you want to dance like that?" Tracey asked her.

"I think it's kinda cool, and not everyone does it anymore. It's different. Try it! I'll teach you!"

"I don't think so."

"Please?" Erica looked up with her with big blue eyes just begging her to have some fun. Tracey rolled her eyes.

"Fine," the blonde sighed. She stood and copied Erica's movements as the girl taught her. She was surprised at how fast the movements were when she was actually doing them as well as realizing how much energy this dancing took compared to her usual moves. Tracey found herself enjoying this, having more fun than that miserable time at the clubs with her friends. She decided that her new friends from college were much more fun. They'd go to bars and drink casually, not to get drunk. She also found herself enjoying real study parties with this new group, too. It was no wonder she had such a terrible time with those other girls! Perhaps Tracey was growing up, and in doing so, she was leaving her childish friends behind.

"See? You've got it!" Erica yawned. It was four in the morning by now, and Tracey realized just how tired she was herself.

"Wow. I think we should get some beauty sleep."

"But I can't sleep," Erica said, turning the music down.

"Let's watch some TV on the couch then," Tracey decided. She couldn't just leave the poor thing alone in the living room. After all, Erica looked up to her, something she marveled. They sat on the couch and Tracey began flicking through the channels. What was even on at four in the morning? She settled on Maryanne, a sitcom about a working class family. When she and Jimmy got along some mornings, they could sit there for hours and just watch it. Generally, Tracey and Jimmy hated sitcoms but they could always watch marathons of this one for some reason. Erica seemed to be okay with it as she sat there with her eyes glued to the television.

Tracey stretched out on the couch with her head on a pillow. She yawned, wanting to sleep desperately. Erica stretched out on the other side of the couch, her head also on a pillow. Tracey wasn't sure when she fell asleep.

Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews and PMs! I really had no idea people would want to give me OCs for the first chapter! A few of you requested a form to fill out and I was planning on putting it at the end of this chapter which is why it isn't in chapter 1 since obviously chapter 2 didn't have any OCs in it. Not sure if chapter 3 will since it depends on how fast I write it and how fast OCs are given to me.

Anyway, here's the form!

Name (first and last):

Age:

Physical description:

Personality:

Occupation (Optional):

Anything else that might be useful (for example, brief history of the character):