A/N: Thanks for reviewsies! X) Makes me feel warm…cuz the heater around here ain't working.

InspectorZebra: Original, Pitch lair conditon (their are so screw). That kind of explain why he doesn't came back until then the movie event. But if any immortal who wander in get trap, how possible Jack or the mini-fairies was able to go out during the movie? This story is also very funny and I'm curious to see where all that will lead.

Thanks bro! BTW, it really isn't headcannon, or let alone, a fact that Pitch's lair traps any immortal being/spirit that comes in. I just came up with it as his punishment by Manny and/or Fearlings. So yeah…why Manny, you might ask, would trap the Guardians? All shall be revealed eventually!

I'm awesome and y'all know it: Oh yes they are. This is going to be good.

Yep, they're possibly screwed. And this shall get good! XD

This chapter will be the intro of my OC, who's contributing to the story…

~Chapter Three~

"Agoraphobia-the fear of being trapped underground, intense fear and avoidance of any place or situation where escape might be difficult or help unavailable in the event of developing sudden panic-like symptom"

A red-haired girl reads, from a huge book placed on her lap. In the front of the cover it reads, Encyclopedia of Phobias and Fears. She sighs in boredom, looking at the window of the car that she's in with her parents.

Entering Burgess, Pennsylvania! There's no place like home here! She reads a sign, as they past by it.

"Well, here we are, a new town, a new home, a fresh start…" the girl hears her father say.

"Yeah? Well, I don't even want to move here in the first place! I never heard of this dumb place before!" the red-head says ruefully, her blue eyes narrowing in bitter anger.

Her mother sighs. "Amara. Please. Give this place a chance. Your father bought this house here in Pennsylvania, three years ago, to be our spring house since…" Her eyes noticeably water up, though Amara's mother fights it back.

The father takes over saying, "Like your mother said Amara, give Burgress a chance. Hey, you might even see that Jamie kid." The car drives through the road, forest scenery laying out on both sides.

Amara rolls her eyes, and sits back, her arms crossed. "I don't even know the kid! I just met him when I was like, seven years old at some random playground, I don't even remember him! Why should we move to some new place where we hardly know anyone?" she complains.

"Amara." Her mother says tiredly, rubbing her temples.

Amara's father glances over to the young girl sitting in the backseat, with a look of dismay on his face. "Don't be difficult, now. You know why we're moving here. It's to forget the past…you need a new start, all of us, to leave the past behind." reasons her father.

"I hate change! Why can't things just stay the things they are? We're just running away from our past! I bet May would've wanted all of us to stay back at New York where we belong—"

"Amara Thompson! Enough! Can't you stop giving us the heartache of reminding us about May! Give us peace!" her mother interrupts her, raising her voice.

Silence falls between with all three of them. Amara just grunts in disgust, glaring out the window.

"Now, we're here." The father says, relief in his tone. The car pulls into a town, with them driving through the road. People are walking busily throughout the streets, some Easter decorations still on some of the shops, snow piled on the sidewalks.

Amara scoffs at this, looking away. Can't believe people still believe in some stupid bunny that comes on Easter. Absolute magical hocus-pocus garbage. She thought bitterly.

Her father drives throughout the town, going deeper into the town. In ten minutes, he finally stops and announces, "We're here!"

Amara glances out the window in dry interest, seeing a red house, with the woods behind. Other houses are in rows next to their new home, stretched out in a surburban-like style. Without saying anything to her parents, Amara gets out of the car, slamming the door behind.

Her parents get out as well with them going to work of taking out luggage, her father untying a huge suitcase from the roof of their car. Amara clutches her book in her arms, already carrying bag. She leans back on the fence, not bothering to help her parents, but merely surveys the area.

As she was looking around, her gaze goes over to a blue shaded house next to her, with a frontyard littered with toys. She looks up, and sees a boy, probably about her age, looking down at her and her parents through a window. He has brown unkept hair, chocolate brown eyes, and a freckly face.

Seeing that Amara notices him, the boy smiles, a gap noticeably on the top of his teeth. However, Amara does not smile back, rolls her eyes, and looks away. I'm not here to make any friends. I'm going to convince my parents that we should move back home, either way. She thought stubbornly.

A brunette haired woman then comes out of the blue-shaded house, walking to Amara's parents. She has huge framed glasses on her face, her hair tied up in a bun. "Hello! Amanda, Johnny?" she greets to her parents.

Amara's mother's eyes widen in recognition, a small smile appearing on her face. "Why, Sara! I didn't expected to be your neighbor? How's your daughter and son, Jamie and Sophie?"

That boy I saw must've been Jamie. That boy that I met in the playground when I was little. Amara thought observantly to herself.

"Amara, this is Mrs. Bennett." her mother says, introducing the both of them to each other.

"Amara, how are you?" Jamie's mother asks, a friendly smile on her face.

"I'm not fine if you're so conceited to know." Amara replies, regarding her coldly.

Jamie's mother draws back, slightly surprised by her snappy answer. Though, she gives a fixed smile, and nods as if she wasn't bothered by it. Amara's mother glares at her in anger, with Amara scoffing.

"So…how old are you Amara? What grade are you in?" Jamie's mother asks, trying to continue the conversation.

"Eleven. In sixth grade." Answers Amara, with her haughtily staring back at her.

This time, a strained smile takes up Jamie's mother face, and she says flatly, "Well, what do you know, my son's turning eleven as well tomorrow. Maybe you can come to his birthday?"

Amara puts her hand on her hip in a snobbish like matter. "Sorry, I'm not seven years old. I'm too old for that stupid stuff." She then turns swiftly on her heel, going into her new house.

"Amara!" her mother says, shocked and flustered.

"So sorry for our daughter's behavior…" Amara hears her father says.

"I can't blame her, after your tragedy, it must be hard…" Jamie's mother says, waving off Amara's rudeness.

Amara slams the door behind her, in blind anger. "I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me. It's May they should be sorry for." She mutters to herself, stomping up the stairs of her new house.

A/N: Yep, that's my OC. Ain't she a pot of sunshine?