Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the character that you have heard of
before. Any of the ones you have not heard of, BELONG to me.
Author's Note: Be nice (or not), this is my first Alias fan-fiction. I love the show and I love reading the fan-fictions on Alias. I have never actually thought of making an alias fan-fiction, but I had an idea.
I KNOW I said I wouldn't update if I didn't get any reviews for the last chapter, but hey I also said I would if I REALLY, REALLY wanted to. And I wanted to post it so yah, don't be mad.
I also KNOW that the last chapter SUCKED, but I had to do her getting into her new life. So I hope this chapter is better. So here it is.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Someone once told me that all pictures told a story. I look at my picture, mine didn't. Mine was blank, boring, and dull. It was nothing. Nothing that single word explained my life in just one word. Nothing.
In the picture I was living with my third family. My name was Indigo and I lived in Mexico. I don't think I could ever pass as a Mexican. But I did. I was always changed to look different; to look like someone else.
My hair then was black my skin was tan and I could swear I was someone else. My eyes were also changed; they had been all the colors I could think of. Brown, blue, green, gray, hazel, and Black; were the colors I've had. In the picture my eyes were black and cold. Was I ever in my life full of joy and happiness??
I look in my mirror and see a different face. I wore a face that was not mine, a face that belonged to someone other than me. My hair was blond nearly white and my eyes, they were blue, a brilliant crystal blue. My skin, it was pale and I would never have known if I had even once stepped in the light.
What was my real hair color? I think it is a brownish color, but I haven't seen it since like forever. My eye color, what was that? I think it is green, but maybe it's brown. How can I see myself everyday and not know what I really look like?
Why was I always changed? Why was I even worth wasting the effort to change? So many questions I have, and I KNOW they will never be answered. Even if in my dreams they were.
I drop my picture and put away my keepsake box. It was filled with everything that was ever special to me. There were pictures of all the families I've lived with and all the identities I've known. My keepsake box was the ONLY thing I would NEVER part with. It held everything that I REALLY needed to survive.
It also held my teddy bear from my REAL mommy and daddy. That bear was my ONLY connection to them. It was my only belonging of the REAL me. I picked up the worn white bear and hugged it tightly. I NEVER wanted to let it go, but I know I wasn't allowed to show it to others. That was also a rule I learned from somewhere in my mind, yet I never remembered who told it to me.
I loosen my grip on my only love. Teddy was my world, and my only reason to hold on. Teddy gave me faith that I WOULD one day find my REAL life. I hated to let him down, but it was getting late and Chris and Alicia would be home in a few minutes. I place Teddy gently in my box and place it under my bed.
I walked swiftly, yet gracefully down the spiral staircase. The house was so quiet I loved it, yet I hated it more. Silence gave away presence of someone or something bad. But nothing bad was supposed to happen for another few months.
I walked to the living room still being precautious about my "feeling." Yah, I know I am NOT anything like a psychic or something like that, but you're always told to trust your instincts aren't you. So I can trust mine, can't I?
I flipped on the television. On the large screen was the news. Taking about something like terrorists and that stuff. So I like the news, so what. The news gives, well news to the world.
News Reporter: "Another terrorist attacked a small urban family in the Miami, Florida area."
I knew instantly what they were talking about. My family. Miami, terrorists, it all fit together perfectly.
News Reporter: "A family of four was killed. The families home was burned not be accident."
Yep, that was my last family. My family died, and it was ALL because of me.
News Reporter: "The deaths were of Mathew Marin age 34, his wife Tiffany Marin age 33, and their two children Becky Marin age 5 and Basal Marin age 7."
I was reported dead. Basal Marin was reported dead. But in the end both were the same person. But was I REALLY dead?? Sometimes I think so, it seems like that almost all the time. But the question was, was I dead or not?
News Reporter: "Recently a lot of terrorist have been attacking and they ALL seem to be connected. But by how is the question."
I want to call up the news station this instant and scream at them. The question was easy. They were ALL connected to ME. ALL to ME. Everyone wanted me. It was as easy as that. People wanted me alive or not.
So my question is, should I let them get me or should I try to live? Either one works but both results are different; live or die.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Note: How was it? Horrible? Stupid? Actually good? Please tell what you think about my story so far. Should I continue? Or should I delete it? Review. If I do not get a review that tells me to continue, I will NOT add any more to the story (unless I REALLY, REALLY want to like I did today).
Who do you think "Sarah" is?? What do you think will happen?? PLEASE answer me. I want, no NEED reviews.
SO REVIEW NOW. (This is an order)
Thank you.
Author's Note: Be nice (or not), this is my first Alias fan-fiction. I love the show and I love reading the fan-fictions on Alias. I have never actually thought of making an alias fan-fiction, but I had an idea.
I KNOW I said I wouldn't update if I didn't get any reviews for the last chapter, but hey I also said I would if I REALLY, REALLY wanted to. And I wanted to post it so yah, don't be mad.
I also KNOW that the last chapter SUCKED, but I had to do her getting into her new life. So I hope this chapter is better. So here it is.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Someone once told me that all pictures told a story. I look at my picture, mine didn't. Mine was blank, boring, and dull. It was nothing. Nothing that single word explained my life in just one word. Nothing.
In the picture I was living with my third family. My name was Indigo and I lived in Mexico. I don't think I could ever pass as a Mexican. But I did. I was always changed to look different; to look like someone else.
My hair then was black my skin was tan and I could swear I was someone else. My eyes were also changed; they had been all the colors I could think of. Brown, blue, green, gray, hazel, and Black; were the colors I've had. In the picture my eyes were black and cold. Was I ever in my life full of joy and happiness??
I look in my mirror and see a different face. I wore a face that was not mine, a face that belonged to someone other than me. My hair was blond nearly white and my eyes, they were blue, a brilliant crystal blue. My skin, it was pale and I would never have known if I had even once stepped in the light.
What was my real hair color? I think it is a brownish color, but I haven't seen it since like forever. My eye color, what was that? I think it is green, but maybe it's brown. How can I see myself everyday and not know what I really look like?
Why was I always changed? Why was I even worth wasting the effort to change? So many questions I have, and I KNOW they will never be answered. Even if in my dreams they were.
I drop my picture and put away my keepsake box. It was filled with everything that was ever special to me. There were pictures of all the families I've lived with and all the identities I've known. My keepsake box was the ONLY thing I would NEVER part with. It held everything that I REALLY needed to survive.
It also held my teddy bear from my REAL mommy and daddy. That bear was my ONLY connection to them. It was my only belonging of the REAL me. I picked up the worn white bear and hugged it tightly. I NEVER wanted to let it go, but I know I wasn't allowed to show it to others. That was also a rule I learned from somewhere in my mind, yet I never remembered who told it to me.
I loosen my grip on my only love. Teddy was my world, and my only reason to hold on. Teddy gave me faith that I WOULD one day find my REAL life. I hated to let him down, but it was getting late and Chris and Alicia would be home in a few minutes. I place Teddy gently in my box and place it under my bed.
I walked swiftly, yet gracefully down the spiral staircase. The house was so quiet I loved it, yet I hated it more. Silence gave away presence of someone or something bad. But nothing bad was supposed to happen for another few months.
I walked to the living room still being precautious about my "feeling." Yah, I know I am NOT anything like a psychic or something like that, but you're always told to trust your instincts aren't you. So I can trust mine, can't I?
I flipped on the television. On the large screen was the news. Taking about something like terrorists and that stuff. So I like the news, so what. The news gives, well news to the world.
News Reporter: "Another terrorist attacked a small urban family in the Miami, Florida area."
I knew instantly what they were talking about. My family. Miami, terrorists, it all fit together perfectly.
News Reporter: "A family of four was killed. The families home was burned not be accident."
Yep, that was my last family. My family died, and it was ALL because of me.
News Reporter: "The deaths were of Mathew Marin age 34, his wife Tiffany Marin age 33, and their two children Becky Marin age 5 and Basal Marin age 7."
I was reported dead. Basal Marin was reported dead. But in the end both were the same person. But was I REALLY dead?? Sometimes I think so, it seems like that almost all the time. But the question was, was I dead or not?
News Reporter: "Recently a lot of terrorist have been attacking and they ALL seem to be connected. But by how is the question."
I want to call up the news station this instant and scream at them. The question was easy. They were ALL connected to ME. ALL to ME. Everyone wanted me. It was as easy as that. People wanted me alive or not.
So my question is, should I let them get me or should I try to live? Either one works but both results are different; live or die.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Note: How was it? Horrible? Stupid? Actually good? Please tell what you think about my story so far. Should I continue? Or should I delete it? Review. If I do not get a review that tells me to continue, I will NOT add any more to the story (unless I REALLY, REALLY want to like I did today).
Who do you think "Sarah" is?? What do you think will happen?? PLEASE answer me. I want, no NEED reviews.
SO REVIEW NOW. (This is an order)
Thank you.