A/N: Hi everyone! You're all beautiful people for reading this and I love you all so much. This AU is really close to my heart and don't worry, Bering and Wells will be coming up real soon I promise. :) I realize that this story might not be for everyone, but if you're giving it a shot to see where it's going, thank you extra. ::hugs and kisses:: Sorry... I reposted this chapter because I needed to fix a few grammatical issues I saw while reading through it again. :\ I probably missed more. All mistakes are mine.

So I hope you guys enjoy this very MYKA-centric chapter and come back for more. :)

The Summer sun loomed over the town of Willow Tree, heating it to it's very core. This time of year, everyone would travel the few miles down the road to the next town; Brooksville. They had a lake that people would spend their Summer days in, fighting off the unbearable heat.

When everyone in the town found their ways of staying cool and still managing to do their daily business, one young woman found her happiest place to be under an old tree, next to a small creek. She lay in a field, close to the edge of the woods that so many people feared. The tall blades of grass hid her well enough that she wouldn't be found for some time, and the leaves on the tree provided the perfect amount of shade.

Her feet were bare, wiggling in the cool grass, her eyes were closed, her mouth moving slightly as if reciting something, praying or dreaming. She had her hands clasped over a book that lay across her stomach, the dress she wore was once a cream color, but after laying in the dirt and grass all afternoon, it had collected the dust picked up by the wind. A breeze came by swiftly, toussling her curly mane, mixing the brown hue of her locks with the beautiful green surrounding her.

"The end." She whispered, opening her eyes slowly. Thick eyelashes just barely revealed beautiful hazel eyes that looked an intense green as it reflected off of their surroundings. She softly closed the book and turned over onto her stomach, kicking her feet in the air. Her complexion was pale, for lack of sunlight. She kept close to home, rarely going into town; she had maids, servants, and tutors, why would she need to go anywhere? She sighed, daydreaming of the things unknown.

A rabbit hopped out of the woods, settling itself before her. She smiled and rested her head on her hands. "Hello." She said softly, not wanting to scare the creature away, but when it didn't even flinch she continued. "Well, you're a cute thing aren't you?" She studied the white hare, it's black eyes studying her back, it's head lifted slightly sniffing the air around it. "You're so lucky you live in the woods. I'm from there." She pointed over her shoulder, and beyond the tall iron gate, there stood a large home, the house she grew up in and longed to escape.

"What's it like to be free?" She asked, knowing all too well that the creature wouldn't answer her, but it seemed content to lend an ear or two. "I'm leaving here one day, maybe tomorrow." The rabbits nose twitched in disbelief. "Hmmm... you don't think I will." She paused, rolling onto her back. "Well, tomorrow I'll leave and I'll never come back. If you don't believe me, just wait and see."

"Myka!?" A frail voice called out from the front door of the large house. "Myka?"

The young woman groaned and covered her face with her arms. "I hate my name." She hissed. "If I could change it to one less worn from being called out so often."

"Myka Ophelia Bering." The woman now stood behind the gate surrounding their land. It was tall and locked; Myka's father said it was meant to keep people out, but as she grew up she realized it was made to keep them in. "What are you doing out there? Get back in here, and get in the house. You have piano lessons this afternoon."

"Mother! I don't want to do piano lessons anymore. I just want to..."

"Don't make me get your father young lady." The threat immediately sent a wave of fear through the woman. She stood and straightened out her dress before walking to the gate. "Get back in here. I can't believe that after all these years you're still climbing this gate. How many dresses have you torn up...?" Mrs. Bering drifted off as she walked back toward the house.

Myka stuck her book and shoes between the bars of the gate and gracefully hoisted herself up and over, landing with a dull thud. She picked up her things and walked toward the house.

She walked through the front door, barely inside the house when her younger sister rushed to her side. "Hey you have something in your hair." Tracy pulled some grass from the tangled mess that was her sisters hair. "Day dreaming in the woods again?"

"I wasn't in the woods!" Myka said, whispering harshly, her gaze darting around the house.

"Don't worry, dad's in his office. You're safe. You should change your dress though... or burn it before he sees."

Myka looked over toward the large wooden doors that lead to her father's office, then down at her dress; a mess of dirt and grass stains covering the expensive fabric. "I wasn't in the woods." She whispered again. "I was just by the creek."

"I know. I don't understand why you hang out there all day with your books. You don't even read, you just lay there for hours talking to yourself. It's weird."

"I don't talk to myself!" Myka chided, but stopped when she remembered that she spoke to the animals instead, which is weirder. "I'm gonna get ready for my lessons." She walked up the long staircase to her room, welcoming the escape and falling onto her bed. She dug herself beneath the mass of pillows, burrowing deeper in an attempt to disappear, but a knock on her door stopped her.

"Myka are you ready for your lessons? Arthur is here."

Myka got up and quickly pulled off her dress, changing into pants and a loose blouse. She wasn't fond of having to take lessons and do tutoring and music and dance, but she did enjoy spending time with Arthur. She ran down the stairs and plopped herself next to her teacher.

"Hello." She smiled happily. The first time she met Arthur, she was only five, he was a grumpy old man who frightened her; and now 18 years later, he was still a grumpy old man, but he had become more of a father figure to her than her own father was. During lessons he would find a way to mentor her when she had serious life questions, to his chagrin it was more often then naught, and for a young girl she had many questions that even he had a hard time answering.

"Hello Myka. Ready to begin?"

The young woman would stare at her teachers fingers for most of the lesson, wondering how those shorter stubbier digits managed to make such beautiful music. The rest of the lesson she stared at his eyebrows, wondering what his parents must have looked like to make those.

After her lesson, Arthur left as he did every time; never turning toward the town, but disappearing in the other direction. Since she was little, Myka would want to just follow him, running away from this monotonous life she was born into.

She couldn't deny that she was lucky to be born into a life of privilege, never having to worry about money and status; but with certain privileges, came certain sacrifices; and she would trade everything for the chance to be her own person, instead of a prisoner.

...

Dinner came around quickly after that and dinner was always the worst part of her day. Sitting in almost silence, listening to people chew their food and drink their wine; servants bustling through to clear plates, throat clearing and Tracy humming, her mother sighing. This was not living.

"Myka... that new boy Christopher was asking about you today." Tracy said with a grin on her face. "Ow!" She yelled when a foot came into contact with her shin.

"No." Myka said, hoping her clear annoyance would stop this line of conversation dead in it's track.

"Why not sweetie?" Her mother said into her wine glass before taking a sip.

"I'm just not interested."

"You're never interested. Ever since Sam..."

"Don't say his name." Myka warned.

"Why not? You were supposed to marry him and then he died..."

"I said don't!" Myka slammed her hands down and stood up, the sound of glass rattling on the table drew everyones attention, but her eyes were fixed, almost empty as she glared angrily at her little sister.

"Myka sit down and don't raise your voice like that at the dinner table." The voice that said this was rough and ragged. Myka looked up and her father was staring right at her. "Sit down."

Her response was to flatten her hands on the table top and stand up straighter in defiance.

"Myka Ophelia Bering." He said calmly, but that was always the indication that he was nearing the edge of patience. "Sit. Down. Right. Now."

Myka could feel tears stinging at her eyes, but refused to let them fall as she took her seat.

"You didn't love him at first either." Tracy continued to poke at Myka like she was a lion in a cage. "You hated that you had to marry him remember? Then you fell in love with him."

Myka could feel her heart freezing over, she dug her nails into her palms as her fists clenched to stop herself from another outburst. "May I be excused." She said quietly and with as much sweetness she could muster, praying that her father would just let her go... and he did.

She ran upstairs and took her large book bag, heading down stairs and straight for the door. She got outside and breathed in the fresh night air, hot summer days meant cool summer nights. She sighed and walked into the grass, toward a tree that she speant most nights at. There were fireflys circling the yard and she dug into her bag pulling out a few jars. Since she was little she found that concentrating on trying to catch them had taken her mind off of other things. It took her years to catch one, she was a teenager when she caught the first one and from then on she never missed. After Sam died, she must have caught and released hundreds of fireflys.

Myka had started to line up the glowing jars around her, now emersed in their glow. For anyone watching the young woman do this, they would think it were an intricately choreographed dance. She was deceptively graceful, her long limbs not as clumsy as one would presume. After she was satisfied with her circle of jars, she sat down in the middle, pulling a book out of her bag.

She read the title, clutching it close to her chest and was just about to lay down.

"Excuse me miss?" A tall man stood outside of their gate, shadowed by darkness.

"Can I help you?" Myka asked as she stood and cautiously approached the gate, now grateful for it's existence.

"That's impressive." He pointed to the glowing jars, but Myka didn't want to turn her back in case this stranger was not friendly.

"Are you from town?"

"No. I'm just passing through. I'm looking for a group of people, maybe you know them. A woman called Irene Fredrics..."

"I don't really know too many people. I stay pretty close to home, but my father might know them. He knows everyone."

"Really? Perhaps I could come in for a moment and meet him."

Just then, like a voice from heaven, her mother called out for her.

"I'm right here mother."

"Who are you talking to?"

"Um..." Myka looked back at the man.

"James McPhearson." He offered his name quickly, hoping to gain the trust of this family. "I was just looking for some old friends and your lovely daughter here told me your husband might know them, that he knows everyone."

Jeanie Bering neared the gate, putting her arm around Myka's shoulder. "Well, we hardly know everyone." She pulled Myka back and whispered in her ear. "Go gather your things and go inside." Myka listened without hesitation, releasing the fireflys, thanking them for giving her light, before running back into the house. "My daughter shouldn't have told you that, my husband Warren doesn't know everyone. If you want to speak with him, please return at a more resonable hour and make an appointment. He's a very busy man."

"Of course." James tipped his head apologetically. "Tell your daughter I'm sorry if I frightened her."

"She isn't afraid of anything Mr. McPhearson." Jeanie said before turning around and walking away.

The man simply walked on into the town, hoping to find someone who could help.

...

"What were you thinking?" Jeanie said as soon as she got into the house.

"What? I was just going out to read like I do almost every night." Myka replied defensively.

"Talking to that strange man."

"It's not like I unlocked the gate and let him in mother." Myka ran up to her room. She needed to leave and she would. She hated that in living in this environment, she could never grow up, she could never discover who she was. She promised to herself before going to bed that night that she would leave first thing in the morning.

This world was not made for her, something was missing; and if it took her an eternity, she would spend an eternity to find what it was, and everything would change.

Thank you for reading this chapter. See you for the next one. Feel free to leave a review. If you have any questions, I'm here, so please don't hesitate to find me. XO