DISCLAIMER: I don't own Maximum Ride

Chapter 1 Max's POV.

1 Month and 2 foster homes latter

"Max! Max where are you!" I heard Chelsea yell.

Well that was kind of an obvious question. I thought. "I'm in the hospital wing Chel!" I yelled back while trying to fight off about 5 doctors at the same time. Yesterday we had gotten back from our worst home yet. Most times I would rather die then go to any kind of hospital, but I hadn't been given a choice this time. It was either go to the hospital voluntarily, or be drugged while I was sleeping and carried in. I choose to come voluntarily, but that did not mean I had to cooperate. Chelsea came running in.

"Max!" she yelled. "We finally found the perfect home for you!" I moaned. Why couldn't we have at least 1 week of rest before we were plunged back into the horrible world we lived in? Well, this wasn't quiet resting, but you get the picture.

"Stop fighting them Max." Chelsea said.

"Do we have to go? And I will not stop fighting them!"

Chelsea sighed. "Let her be," she told the paramedics. They looked at her like she was crazy, and she said, "Would you like to be the one in need of medical assistance? Because that's what will happen if you keep messing with her."

"New people?" I asked.

"Yea, the veterans thought it would be funny to see how well 5 newbies could handle Maximum Ride," she told me.

"You did extremely well by coming out without injuries and still conscious," I informed them. "Now run along before I change that. And whoever's sneaking up behind me with a needle can be the first one to die." I could feel the person who had been trying to sneak up on me freeze, and Chelsea burst out laughing.

"To answer your question Max, yes you have to go," she said.

"I didn't even get the customary week to rest!" I complained.

"Sorry Max but this time nothing can go wrong. We got a call from a lady who had already adopted someone from here and she said she wanted to adopt twins. I asked her if it mattered how old the twins were and she said it didn't matter at all. So now you're finally on your way to a home where things will actually work out! I'm so happy for you!" Chelsea and I had made friends during the 15 years I had lived here. In fact, the people who lived here were as much family as Iggy was. Well, not quite, but you get the picture.

What Chelsea didn't know was that Iggy and I were done. We were done giving people a chance before we had to run, and we were done going back to the orphanage. We could easily survive on our own, so why bother putting ourselves through the pain?

The last house had been so bad that Iggy said he couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't have agreed more fully; especially since he had managed to get away after about 5 days and I had had to stay for about a week. Iggy had had a very hard time convincing the police that he wasn't joshing them. We had never been to that particular town before, so when Iggy went to the police and told them that someone was beating up his sister they didn't believe him. Being the brilliant person that he is, he forgot that his own bruises could be used as proof. By the time he remembered and got the cops to come I was out cold on the floor and what's-his-face (I really don't remember the guys name) had his hands around my neck, strangling me. I now had purple bruises and several broken bones to join my poor hand.

I regained consciousness quickly and was therefore not rushed to the hospital. Although that might have had something to do with the fact that Iggy didn't let them see me until I was fully conscious and could pretend that I was alright.

Anyway, the long and short of it was that we were going and to run as soon as we got there, and we weren't going to wait for people to start hitting or completely ignoring us.

I stopped here because I felt like it was a good place I really want to write the next chapter, which (BTW) will include several frimialliar faces.