AN: Hey! So, I'm trying out a new story! This has nothing to do with spies, and it probably has one of the most dark and depressing beginnings that you will read. No, I haven't experienced any of what goes on in this story, I just always wonder what it would be like and this is the only was to actually see it. Review if you like, even if you don't. I just want some feedback!

Chapter 1: The Beginning

It happened the night my parents died.

They were coming home from some work party, the usual, late at night. The truck driver fell asleep at the wheel and hit them head on. Mom died on impact but dad died on the way to the hospital. I didn't know until the next morning, when I realized that they hadn't come home the night before. Only when I turned on the news was when I found out the cold, hard truth.

Before the accident, my life was perfect. I had perfect grades, perfect house, perfect friends, and even a perfect family. Or so it seemed. The reality was that my family was just the opposite, and I hadn't figured it out sooner. It took an accident and losing both of my parents to realize it. Now, I was leaving the only life that I knew and going to a boarding school in Virginia. Gallagher or something like that. The life that I had been living was practically a fake, leaving me to pick up the pieces on my own. But the problem was, I didn't know how.

The movers came within a week to take everything into storage. I don't know why it would go to storage, they had no living relatives. Even if they did, I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't know I existed. No one even came to see me after, my friends all cut off contact with me. It was painful to go to school, since all they talked was me and the accident. I just stopped showing up after a week. I'm pretty sure that they thought that I had committed suicide or something. Let them, they'll be better off with me not in their lives.

A couple of weeks later I got a call from our insurance company, leaving a message about the will my parents wrote. After meeting and reading it, I was given a week to pack my bags and leave for Gallagher, where I would be staying until I was at least legally an adult. The driver tried to make conversation on the way, but I just looked out the window and listened to music. I hadn't really talked since the accident and wasn't going to start now. They can try and get me to any counselor or therapist but I'm not gonna start talking any time soon.

I silently thanked the driver and grabbed my bags. It was mid semester in March and a lightly drizzle fell from the sky. Gloomy and depressing, just like my mood. They had given me a room assignment and my schedule ahead of time, so I didn't need to fill out any paperwork or even say that I've arrived at the headmaster's office or whatever they have here. Not that I would anyway. Sure, the old me would've, but I wasn't her anymore.

It took me at least five minutes just to find my room, stuck in a corner in one of the old wings of the school. There was dust visible in the air and cobwebs in almost all corners of the ceiling. The door creaked as I opened it to reveal a small room only light by the window lain up high in the room. There were two beds flanking each wall both with a nightstand and dresser. The left side was strewn with clothes all over the floor and hanging out of drawers while the nightstand was covered in picture frames. Up close, you could see pictures of a family, a group of girls, and a group of guys. All of them looked attractive and reminded me of my old life. There was a pang in my stomach as I felt for the razor that sat at the bottom of my bag.

Cutting was a method of coping the came a few days after I stopped going to school. I felt worthless, and needed to feel something again, even if it was pain. The cuts up my arm were covered by wearing longsleeves and jackets. Luckily, no one noticed how I slowly stopped eating food, and how I'm lucky to get part of a meal down each day. I slowly dragged the razor along my wrist, making a long cut that oozed blood almost immediately. I made at least three or four more cuts trying to forget about my old life, until the pain took over my body.

Wrapping my arms in gauze is something that I have quickly become good at, to the point that people won't notice them at all. I slowly unpacked my clothes, ignoring the bell that signaled dinner. The school had mandatory uniforms, and I just got lucky that blazers were included as a part of it. Changing into the uniform the fabric slid easily over my stomach and didn't even touch it. Hell, you could practically count my ribs through my shirt. The blazer added another layer of thickness that made me look like I had a normal weight, that I was somewhat happy about.

Finally unpacked, I fell back onto my newly made bed and let my eyes bore into the ceiling, something that I do often now. This time, I let my mind roam to what my old life was like. Parties every weekend, sports events to attend, and dances to let loose at. I had it all, and my parents didn't bat an eyelash at whatever I did. I used to think that we had the perfect relationship but thinking back on it, we had no relationship at all. They would always be at work and never home, while I, unintentionally, would avoid being home at all costs. I couldn't remember the last decent conversation that I had with them. If it wasn't involving business or money, the house was silent. I hated it without realizing, I had never even thought about it. Sure, I guess that my parents loved me to some degree, but I knew that we would never actually be a real family.