Disclaimer: This is not my sandbox, I've just commandeered it for my own personal use.

Story Arc 1: The Project

April 8th-9th, 2004

Chapter 4

I felt increasingly run down, despite the fact that it was only a small ways into the afternoon. I retraced my footsteps back to my room, looking for the door that did not hold a wooden plaque. I opened the door then closed it before I flung myself onto the bed, breath rushing from my lungs as I bounced.

Drew seemed to be a pleasant boy, his demeanor kind. Even though he could not understand what I tried to convey, he made an effort to have a conversation with me.

I smiled, a friend already made.

"Are you ready for the exam, Miss Flian?" Roger sat at his desk, his elbows propped up, his fingers joined together before his face.

Instead of the two chairs that used to be in his office, I was directed to sit at the single desk placed opposite his own. Mostly made of metal, the desk looked as if it had been dragged from a public school classroom. I glanced at the small pile of papers laying on the surface of the desk; a single pencil rested in a carved indent at the top.

I ran my tongue across the roof my mouth, tasting sleep. Only moments ago I was asleep in my nice, warm bed. The events of previous day seemed to have taken a toll on me, and I slept through the rest of the day, missing my appointment with Roger. Roger, being the kind soul he was, came in search of me later and found me asleep; he woke me and led me to his office.

"Begin when you're ready."

I nodded, yawning before shaking my head to rid myself of the remnants of sleep. I picked up the pencil, the happenings of yesterday still echoing through my mind. The logical part of my brain froze my thought process. Focus. You have other things to worry about right now. I took a breath and closed my eyes, letting the problems slip away. I could do this, all I needed to focus on was the test.

I opened my eyes and concentrated on the test. I began the test.

I scanned the first problem. Then the second. The third. The fourth. Fifth. Sixth. I flipped to the end, read the last question.

I snapped my eyes up to Roger. Dropping the pencil, I gestured with my hands. "What is this?"

Roger, his eyes twinkling, leaned back in his chair. "It's the test you must pass to remain here, Miss Flian."

I rolled my eyes, "I already knew that." I frowned, glancing at the test, rereading the last question.

12) What is the name of this institution?

"Please, Miss Flian, there is no talking during a test."

I vented a laborious sighed, placing my head in my hand and propping my elbow up on the desk. I turned the packet of pages back to the beginning.

1) _hat is your name?

Beneath it I wrote: "Heather Renee Flian".

It irked me to find the 'W' missing from 'what', there was an obvious space left for the letter. To ease my unrest about the missing letter, I filled in the 'W' myself.

2) _ge?

I scrunched up my nose at the letters. What the fuck? Who the hell wrote this test? How the fuck was I supposed to do this test with letters missing?

I sighed; I needed to calm down. This was a test to determine whether or not I could continue to have refuge while my parents were. . . shit.

Test. Test. Test. Torture Established by Sadistic Teachers.

I grit my teeth and forced my attention back to the question. "ge"? "ge"?

I looked back up the first question, to the first word missing a letter. The second question must then, obviously, be missing a letter. Or maybe a couple of more words? I mentally started to growl.

But what letter could it be missing? "ge". The question mark was close enough the back of the 'e' that another letter would be impossible to squeeze between, but the same amount of space was missing from the beginning of the 'ge' as was missing from between the number of the question to the "hat". The letter must belong there.

Then I mentally groaned, instantly knowing the letter.

I filled in an "A" in front of "ge", creating the word "Age".

Beneath the question, I wrote in "fourteen".

3) _other's na_e?

I scoffed, as if they could trip me up with this one when the pattern had already been established. Obviously, from the previous questions, there was a letter still missing that belonged in the space. I filled the blanks with an "M" and wrote beneath the question "Sharin".

4) Father's na_e?

I filled in the missing letter in the gap and wrote in "Ted" beneath it.

5) If _ou could change _our name, what would it be?

For a moment I contemplated the question. Change my name? But I liked my name. It was beautiful, a name from my grandmother's middle name. But still, I contemplated, what would I change my name to?

As I thought, I filled in the "Y" before the "ou", wanting to continue with the pattern I had already started.

I ran through so many names. Jenny? My Aunt's name was Jennifer; it held enough significance. Then I sighed. It didn't sit right in my stomach to call myself the name of a living relative, or one that I had little to no contact with.

Rachael was my best friend before I moved to England . . . but that didn't seem right either. That was her name, not mine. I rifled through girl names in my head, but I came up dry.

Who said it needs to be a girl's name? The logical part of my brain supplied. The thought held some truth, but no. I didn't want a boy's name. I needed something more, something that would belong to only me.

I wanted to be me, not my grandmother. Not anyone, just me.

It felt wrong to think this way. Perhaps I was being selfish, but I wanted something that told of what was happening to me, this new beginning in the middle of the chaos my life was outlined with.

My thoughts jumped to Drew, the boy I had met following the emotional destruction of the blonde. He had named me "B"—

Then I knew.

"Beginning" I wrote.

I knew it was weird to write down a name that might not have been traditional, like Jenny or Rachael. But somehow, this seemed like a small victory, and it wasn't like I was going to have to be called "Beginning".

But if I did, I would shorten it to Begin, I thought, smiling to myself.

6) What do you want to be when you grow up?

I read through the question again. No errors. No spaces. This line was completely fine. What kind of game was the writer of the test playing?

I focused on the question, there wasn't much a child of my specific nature could do. Perhaps I could be a translator, but even then it wasn't as if I was deaf.

Underneath the question I wrote "TBA" and tried to continue on to the next question:

7) _ow many languages do you know? If more t_an one, please list.

I read question 7, the missing letter was back. I looked back to question 6. Something wasn't right. Why continue the charade now? I shook my head and filled in the missing letter, writing beneath question 7 "one", praying I wasn't required to already know a language other than English.

Did sign language count as a language?

I looked up to Roger. He was leaning over his desk, writing with his quill on a piece of paper. I cleared my throat, trying to catch attention.

"Miss Flian, I don't want to have to tell you again." He glanced up, his tone laced lightly with warning.

I signed my question quickly, "Can sign language be considered a language?"

"Of course, it takes supplemental study outside of your original language to learn it." I nodded my thanks before he hunched over to continue his work.

I turned back to my test, quickly erasing "one" and scratched "two". Next to it I wrote "American Sign Language" and "English".

8) H_bbies? Name as many as y_u can within the space bel_w.

I filled in the "o's" before filling a small list: reading, sleeping, and singing.

9) Wo_ld yo_ do anything to achieve yo_r goals?

I could, depending. Logic sang in the back of my head, You would do anything to find your parents.

"Yes" I wrote, knowing I would do anything if I could find my parents. I filled in the "u".

10) _ubject_ you've already _tudied.

This question was probably the easiest so far. Beneath the question, I filled in the courses I had already had in high school. Following my completion of the question, I filled in all the blanks with a "s".

11) Do you b_li_v_ in God?

To be honest, I didn't know anymore. I wanted Him to be real, but I refused to believe that God would allow for my parents to be. . . I sighed. Up until recently, I had been raised to be believe in Him, so why not now? Just because one thing went wrong? Beneath the question I wrote "yes".

Finally, the last question:

12) What is the name of this institution?

What was the name of this place? I'm sure I was told it; perhaps at the beginning of my stay, back when I wasn't entirely coherent?

You still aren't entirely coherent, A small voice in the back of my head quipped.

I wracked my brain. Why was it that I managed to come up with demeaning comments about myself, but I still couldn't retain information regarding the place I was residing in? Just yesterday I had been appalled at the information that the mansion was far away from any type of civilization, shouldn't I have remembered if I had traveled that far?

I scolded myself silently; I prided myself on the ability to be attentive, but the answer eluded me.

The name. The. Name. Name? Name!

I glanced around the room, tracing the words along the spines of the books on the shelves lining the right side of Roger's office. Titles and authors, nothing stuck out as important. The pictures didn't display anything other than their own beautiful landscapes within the frames, definitely not a clue to the mystery.

I turned my attention back to my test, flipping it back to the beginning, again. I read through the questions, looking for something, anything towards a hint.

What about the spaces? A voice sang in the back of my mind.

The spaces, the places for letters. Most of the questions where missing a specific letter.

1) W.

2) A.

3) M.

4) M.

5) Y.

7) H.

8) O.

9) U.

10) S.

11) E.

Wammy House. Could it be that easy? No, there's no way; but I didn't have anything else. So I wrote the words beneath question 12 and sighed.

Please be right, I pleaded to the test.

I stood, picking up my pencil and packet.

"Done?" Roger asked, pushing his glasses up. I nodded, and he set down his quill to grab the papers I extended to him. He flicked through the pages, his eyes moving as he read. Then, as he finally turned to the last page, Roger smiled. He placed the packet on his desk and stood, squaring his shoulders and folding his right arm behind his back. He bowed, his left arm extending dramatically: "Welcome to Wammy's House, Beginning."

Edited 1/27/2015: My wonderful Beta gamegirl07 has edited this chapter, please give her the best praise imaginable!

Edited 7/5/2015: InkstainedHands1177 edited this chapter...they've made some additions to it that I am very pleased with!

A/N:

A special thanks to my first reviewer for the story: lucifae! I'm glad you like the story and I hope to meet all your expectations!

Another shout out to the few who decided to follow and favorite it! It fills me with happiness when readers enjoy the story.

I'm sorry about the shortness of the previous chapter, I needed to introduce a couple of pieces of information and I couldn't fit them in the earlier chapters without making them sound really awful. To make up for it, I've made this chapter much longer.

I'm eager to know what you guys think!

With much anticipation,

AAnnR