I woke up to the bright rays of the early morning sun and the strong smell of alcohol attacking my senses, feeling the car seat's imprint digging uncomfortably into my back. I remembered nothing of the earlier night, not even what I was doing in my car. As I stood up, half naked and freezing, I greeted an expected piercing headache. Every second I spent in this wretched, crappy place called Storybrooke felt poisonous and I just knew I had to get out. After throwing on yesterday's T-shirt, jeans, red leather jacket and some boots with no socks, I opened the car door and flinched at the bright light outside and soon realised just how hungry I was. Oh, what I'd pay for a stack of pancakes and some coffee.

Storybrooke felt like a surprisingly deserted town considering the amount of buildings. Tall school houses and shops, all either empty or the people were simply a very quiet population. 'Granny's', a shabby building that looked like it would offer hot beverages was on my left and I decided to drop by, but just for a second before going back home. A bell rang as I opened the door causing most likely Granny herself to notice me.

"Well hello dear, what can I get you?" Her voice was sweet and soft like every grandmother's in every fairy tale.

"Just some coffee and a muffin. Please." I sat down at the counter.

"Oh dear, you look like you need something a little less bitter than coffee. How about some hot chocolate?" Seeing as Granny was already preparing the hot cocoa I couldn't refuse.

She sprinkled some cinnamon on top of the whipped cream floating on the cocoa and I took a sip. I had really needed it, I felt my body warm up, my spirits rise and my mouth fill with sweetness. Granny's was empty except for one woman, late 20s, short brown hair, palest skin I'd ever seen and the sweetest, kindest expression.

"Hello. Couldn't help but notice that I haven't seen you around a lot. Are you new here?" The woman had an incredibly soothing voice, like a mother's, all my worries were gone.

"Um, no. I don't live here I'm just grabbing breakfast and then I'm out of here."

The stranger came towards me and pushed out her hand.

"I'm Mary Margaret. I teach here."

I returned the handshake.

"Emma. You wouldn't happen to teach a young boy named Henry, would you?" Inside of me I felt the need to find out more about this boy to whom I'd dedicated less than a year of my life, including the pregnancy. It was a strange feeling, nothing like I'd ever known before. I knew I shouldn't care for the boy or I'd get attached, yet, I felt responsible. I knew it was wrong but it's true.

"Henry! Oh, he's an amazing boy with such an imagination. He believes all of us are characters in a storybook, it's very cute. How do you know him?" No matter what came out of Mary Margaret's mouth it sounded kind and said with such love and care.

I hesitated. Should I go around telling strangers that I'm Henry's mother who has no intention of staying here? And yet, I'm curious I'm curious about who teaches him.

"I'm... his mother."I had to add something, anything. "I know about the character thing too, well, who does he think you are in the story?"

For some reason I wasn't expecting her to answer my question, I was waiting for a larger reaction maybe excitement or shock though I didn't know why. It felt like quite large news that a boy finds his biological mother after years and years. But no, Mary Margaret continued smiling in her motherly way.

"No wonder, he looks a lot like you. He thinks I'm Snow White. Are you anyone in the book?"

"Yeah, your daughter." Having those words come out of my mouth felt ridiculous, the woman was probably younger than me. Why did I even say it?

Mary Margaret laughed. "Actually, I'm late for his class I should go. I'd like to see you more often here Emma."

She left Granny's and I sat there, alone, sipping on my cocoa and eating my muffin.

The sun didn't warm the streets, there was a soft cold wind causing my face to feel stretched and thin, like it had been worn out by time.

When I left Granny's I went to my small, yellow car that was parked some distance from the Mayor's mansion. I started driving away when the thought of Regina's tight skirt and scarlet lips confused my mind. The town limit was getting closer as memories from the drunken night before started coming back to me. The rain, the man, the heat of his skin against mine. Oh my god it had been the sheriff, the man Regina was 'involved' with.

My thoughts were cut short, a excruciating pain stabbed my heart. Was I having a heart attack? I lost all control of my car which then swerved off the road and into the town sign. My head hit the steering wheel and I was struck unconscious.

My head ached, I directed my hand toward it and it hit some damp blood on my forehead, the pain in my chest was gone. I opened my eyes and looked up. All I could see was a white sign looming in front of me, that read:

WELCOME TO STORYBROOKE