..daughters.

author(ess)..petals.

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disclaimer..nothing.

notes. thank you for all that have reviewed! it means a lot, as little or as long as the reviews may be. seriously, it makes me happy to know at least ONE person is reading this things. :D Love you all! Also- NEXT CHAPTER WE INTRODUCE CARLISLE.

um, yeah. i thought that sentence in particular deserved to be in big letters. didn't you? no? okay.

Thanks To:

r0xi!

Everyone who favourited/alerted this story!

Anyone who took the time to even skim over this thing!

r&r my lovelies, because i appreciated each and every one.

'All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.'- Henry Ellis

"Ungh... " A small whimper passed her lips as she raised her head off of the cold glass window. Buildings flashed by and people were small specks in the distance. The city bus was chilly and she silently wished that she atleast had a jacket, but what good would just wishing do? Not much. Bella had picked a seat in the far back of the car, but not many were riding the bus, anyway.

A man in a business suit was reading the paper, his eyes flickering across the printed block words speedily, almost as if he didn't allow himself to process one thing before starting on the next. Sitting a few seats down from him was a world weary looking woman with a sorrowful toddler strapped to her hip. They both looked worse for wear and, even though Bella wasn't in a very good situation herself, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the two and wished she could do something to help them.

Other than the balding bus driver, no one else occupied the dirty seats. It was eerily silent except for the small whine here and there from the little toddler, and the tuts of disapproval from its mother. Bella almost wished someone would speak, for it would take her mind off of the situation at hand- and she desperately needed that. Her mother used to tell her, when she was still in a right state of mind, that busy hands and mouths equalled a busy mind. Right now she needed a busy mind, but she knew she would not be getting it there.

"My last stop is Hackney," The bus driver informed his silent passengers as the old bus creaked to a stop, "We're at the heart of London now. Get off here or Hackney. Can't stay on any longer than that." Bella hesitated. She wasn't sure if it would be smarter to stay on for Hackney, but it wasn't exactly a place where anonymousity was, and that was something she needed dearly. Biting her lower lip, her bare feet tentatively touched the litter strewn isle of the red decker. She did not look back as she disembarked, though she did feel a sort of flutter of uncertainty in her heart. Didn't matter, though- she had made her decision, and she was going to live with it.

The second the soles of her feet touched the London sidewalk, the doors slammed shut and the bus sputtered away without waiting to see if she had gotten off fine or not, but even if the bus driver had waited, he wouldn't have been able to have saw his homeless looking passenger, for she was soon swallowed up into the sea of people travelling the streets. It may have been early- around five or six A.M.- but Londoners were notorious for their 'early bird gets the worm' motto, not to mention the fact it was Monday, possibly the busiest day of the week.

'I picked a lovely day to decide to run,' Bella thought grimly, wincing as a very robust middle-aged woman elbowed her in the torso without even apologizing. Lovely indeed. She felt as if she could faint on the stop, and not a person would stop to see if she was alright. That was life, though, she mused, darting into the nearest shop possible to avoid the human traffic, it went by fast and so did its people.

The doorbell jingled merrily and Bella flushed in embarrassment at the small amount of patrons who raised the eyes above the coffee cups and shot her disinterested stares before ignoring her completely. It seemed she had stumbled into a coffee shop, and not a very lively one, at that. There were a few businessmen dotted here and there, chatting idly or sipping their black coffee, and a college student or two gripping their cappucinos and cramming one last bit of studying in. The girl who worked the coffee machine seemed bored with life in general, and her eyes held a certain distaste when they landed on Bella.

Biting her lower lip, she shot an apologetic look to the girl, though she hadn't an idea what she had done to ignite anger in her, no matter how mellow it was. Bella swallowed a knot in her through when the coffee girl just rolled her eyes and looked away, before heading to the restroom, her eyes downcast.

Bella let out a sigh of relief as the door shut softly behind her, and, after making sure she heard the lock 'click!' slid down onto the cool lime green floortiles, her back propped up against the door. Her mind was in a whirlwind and she had no idea what to do or what to think. She was in a London coffee shop with no money, no name, barely a high school education, and no family. Where was she supposed to go from there?

'You were supposed to live out your dream,' Bella bit out sarcastically to herself, digging her stubby fingernails into the palms of her hands, 'You were supposed to find a job, an apartment at a ridiculously low price, you were supposed to work your way through college, you were supposed to find a man who'd love you no matter what, you were supposed to- '

She let out a choked sob, hugging herself tightly. She was supposed to do a lot of things. She had promised herself. But what had she known? Not much. She had just been a tainted teenaged girl who dreamt of a dream life outside of her dirty flat. Nothing ever ended or, for that matter, started the way it was supposed to, though, did it? She shook her head sadly, her long, mahogany hair brushing against her trembling shoulders. No, it didn't.

Then she had a startling, mindblowing, absolutely fanatical thought. What if... she did live out her dream? A little at a time? Maybe she wasn't prime material, but somebody would be desperate enough to hire her, no matter how ragged she seemed. And sure, she may have to live on park benches for a month or two, but she could save up enough money for a crummy flat. Maybe... maybe everything would turn out okay.

But then again, there were alot of maybes stacked up against her. She didn't let herself dwell on those, though. She was a woman on a mission, albeit a dirty woman in need of a bath, some food, and a friend or two. And a woman on a mission is a very dangerous woman indeed to mess with.

Grabbing the edge of the sink, Bella pulled herself up and let out a deep breath, steadying herself. Once she had done so, she tentatively turned towards the blurred mirror above the golden faucet. What she saw in her reflection was enough to make most girls cry. Her skin was filthy. Dried dirt stained her cheeks and her thin lips were chapped and bleeding slightly. A small bruise adorned her neck and her eyes were puffy and red from crying. The hair that hung from her head was knotted and greasy, a stark contrast to what it would be with a little cleaning up. All in all, she fit the physical description perfectly of the little match girl.

Bella was not deterred, however. With newfound determination she turned the water on and squirted some foamy handsoap on a wet brown papertowel. She made sure it was rubbed in good before scrubbing her face thoroughly. Specks of dirt clogged the already slightly filthy drain, a sign of angst to most, but not to her. It signalled the shedding of her old skin, the loss of her old life.

Several papertowels later Bella let her eyes wander to the mirror once more. Her face lit up at the freshly cleaned skin she saw. The cheeks were still sallow, the eyes still had bags, the lips were still chapped, but it was a vast improvement to what she had previously looked like. This though, no matter how small it would be to other people, was enough to make her day even if everything else went as wrong as it could.

Next, she attempted to finger out the tangles and knots in her hair. Keyword being: attempted. Bella felt as if she were getting nowhere, as if her hair simply did not want to be tangle free. It didn't want to cooperate- but that should've been obvious. Getting knots out of your hair was a brush's job, not your fingers. Bella herself learned this simple rule through trial and error.

Finally, Bella gave up on her hair. She would just have to be satisfied with what she had done, not what she couldn't do. This was a very valuable lesson learned, and with one last glance into the bathroom mirror, Bella left the public restroom with renewed vigor, and a bounce in her step. She was happy enough that she was able to ignor the curious (and in some cases, wary) stares the coffee drinkers shot towards her.

First order of business: Get a job. Easy peasy, right?

It soon panned out, um, no.

review responses:

r0xi: your wish is my command, and here is your chapter. ;P Also, thank you for the sweet compliment!