[Alrighty, I've gotten two reviews so far so I guess I'll update :). This may be one of the shorter chapters; I haven't really got it planned out just yet. We shall see! Happy reading!! Remember, no reviews = no update. To clear up any confusion any of you may have, this fic is set in the U.S., right outside of Detroit.]
[DISCLAIMER: I own everything. Okay, okay, you got me; I'm just a nerd writing a fanfic. The only thing I own is the plot. Maybe I don't even own that.]
Chapter 1
Brenna shot up in bed. God, not ANOTHER one! I hate these nightmares! She thought to herself as she checked the clock. 3:14 AM. If this keeps up, I think I'm going to go crazy.
Brenna had been having these nightmares for the past few weeks, and they were driving her up the wall. First, she'd see this old, almost decrepit, house, and she would search it. Room by room she would find SOMEONE dead. In one room were two little girls. Brenna assumed that they were twins but she couldn't be certain, they were mutilated almost unrecognizable. After she had searched all of the rooms, a strange, really creepy, old man came to her, comforted her, though she couldn't understand what he was saying, but all of a sudden, he grew vampric fangs, and right as he was about to sink his teeth into her, Brenna always woke up. She sighed and slammed her head down onto her pillow.
"I just hope I can get a little more sleep before my alarm goes off," she mumbled, falling back asleep just as quickly as she had awoken.
"Gooooood Morning Detroit!! This is Chad with the weath-" The boisterous alarm cruelly lashed out, waking Brenna in the process. In response, she hit it harder than she had meant to and sent it flying out of its plug in the wall. Brenna grumbled, obviously exhausted, and got out of bed. As soon as she got dressed and gathered her books into her backpack, she headed downstairs for breakfast. The combination of being extremely tired and the narrow stairway made Brenna trip halfway down the stairs, her backpack trailing after her. Her foster mother, Angela, was the first to respond.
"Brenna, dear, are you alright?" She asked with almost motherly concern.
"I'm fine, what's for breakfast," Brenna said, picking herself off of the floor and dusting her body off. Her foster father, William, looked up from his newspaper.
"Eggs." William wasn't much of a talker; most of his answers were two words or fewer. Angela, however, was the exact opposite, explaining everything in intricate detail.
"You can have them scrambled, I know you like them scrambled." Angela smiled.
"No, it's fine, I'm not really hungry." Brenna grabbed her backpack off of the floor and headed toward the door.
"Renn, is there something wrong? You look exhausted," Angela's face curved from smiling to a look of concern.
"I'm fine, I just...I didn't sleep well," she turned the doorknob, and halfway out she turned around, "I have work after school, so I won't be home till around 9." And with that, Brenna walked out of her house.
Brenna sat in her third hour class, English, bored out of her mind.
"Now, onto the homework. I want you to write a one page essay on who you are, due tomorrow. You have ten minutes, so I suggest you get started."
Brenna grabbed her pen and paper and started to write.
Who I am, by Brenna Chasey
My name is Brenna Chasey. I'm 16 years old, 5'4. I have short, dark brown hair and green eyes. I was adopted when I was only a few months old. My guardians are Bill and Angie Chasey. I live with them on Cheshire Street, right outside of Detroit.
Brenna tried to shape the next sentence in her head. She knew what she wanted to say, but the problem wasn't what to say; it was how to say it.
I don't know who my real parents are, or were, but one day I'd like to find them, if it isn't too late.
The bell rang as Brenna put her last period in place. The words on the paper didn't do her feelings justice. She sighed deeply, picked up her things, and went to her next class, which, thankfully, was lunch.
"Renn!! Wait for me!" Her friend, Shannon Mooris, called out to Brenna.
"Hey, what's your rush?" Brenna tried not to sound irritated. Shannon, in Brenna's opinion, even though she was a good friend, Shannon was too happy go lucky.
"No rush, I just wanted to catch up to you. What are you doin' after school?"
"I have to work from three to nine." Shannon laughed.
"You get to work at 'Le Café Confortable'," she giggled hysterically at her over done French accent, "lucky you!" Le Café Confortable, or The Cozy Café, was owned by a French-American couple who weren't very experienced at running a small business. Brenna didn't like it very much, but it was money, and she needed a lot of that if she was going to get a car by the end of the year.
"Yeah, well I don't see you working anywhere," Brenna shot back. Among being happy go lucky and optimistic, Shannon was also lazy. Shannon stuck her tongue out at Brenna as the two got in line for their food.
The rest of the day passed without incident, and Brenna couldn't be happier. She practically ran to work, which was only a block and a half away from her school. Mr. Beauregard, the co-owner, was running the counter. He spoke with a hint of a French accent.
"Ah, Brenna, glad you could make it. Our busy hours are about to start." Le Café Confortable was the teen hot spot in town. On a good day, 3:30-5pm were its busiest hours. After a couple hours of taking orders and making lattes, business casually slowed down.
A soft knock came on the door. A female's voice answered as she looked at the clock. It read 5:15pm.
"Come in." A young man stepped into the dark, windowless room.
"I'm going out for a little bit, I won't be long." The woman rose from her bed.
"Michael, be careful. I don't know if anyone followed us here." Michael's face took a serious tone.
"I'm always careful."
After giving their daughter, Brenna, to a foster family, Michael and Selene kept an eye on their little girl. The Chaseys were friends of Michael's friend, Ambrose, so they got information from him. When the Chaseys moved from Budapest to Detroit, Michael and Selene followed, knowing that one day, their daughter would need them to be near.
Selene was a little cautious about moving at first, she didn't want to leave the place she had been living since she had been turned, but they had no choice. The Death Dealers were closing in, and relocating to a different country sounded wise.
That was 14 years ago. Since they moved, Selene had seen neither head nor hair of the Death Dealers. Of course, one can never be too careful. Selene and Michael's home had surveillance cameras and motion sensors, just in case some nosy Death Dealer or Lycan came snooping about.
Business at the café began to slow down. Brenna sat on the stool behind the counter, knowing that it was about to get boring. There were only a few customers left in the store, and after they left, it was going to get slow. The bell on the door dinged, indicating that a customer had just entered. Brenna snapped out of her thoughts of boredom and stood at the counter, waiting to take the man's order.
"Hello, sir, would you like to try our new Mocha Java Mint twist today?" Brenna repeated the same line she had said at least one hundred times today. I probably sound like a robot. The man, who's attention was on the colorful menu board behind Brenna, focused on her. He looked almost shocked for a minute. His eyes traveled to her nametag, which read Brenna C.
Oh my god, oh my god. Was all he could think.
"Sir?"
"Oh, uh, I'd like, whatever you just said..." His voice was barely above a whisper. She looks just like her mother.
"The Mocha Java Mint twist?" Brenna's brows furrowed. He seems so familiar...do I know him from somewhere?
"Uh, yeah." The man was still shocked. He new Brenna lived near here, but he never thought he'd see her face to face-- any time soon that is.
Brenna dismissed her thoughts as she rang him up; still unable to shake the feeling that she knew this man from somewhere. "That'll be $3.75." She handed him his drink as he handed her four dollar bills. She punched a few numbers into the cash register and gave him his change.
"Here you go, twenty five cents is your change. Thanks for coming to Le Café Confortable." The man nodded and sat down. He couldn't help but stare at Brenna as she sat at the counter looking extremely bored. A few times when she looked over, she caught the man staring at her. Finally, after catching him for the third time, Brenna walked over to his table.
"Sorry for bothering you, but you look really familiar...would you mind me asking your name?" The man looked stunned. Can I tell her? Would it endanger her?
Don't be silly, Michael, the Death Dealers haven't bothered you since you moved.
"My name? I'm Michael."
[Love it? Hate it? Let me know! Please review and perhaps I'll give you a cookie. I really hope you all like it, and hopefully it's not too short for you :).]