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w00t, chapter one!
Enjoy. [Hopefully!]

Oh, and these haven't been edited because I'm too lazy. sweatdrop

Sirens wailed. The girl tried to ignore it. Her chestnut brown hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, a medium sized burn mark on her left forearm. The sleeve of her white waitress' uniform didn't cover it. Her eyes were a soft hazel, complimenting her olive skin. She held a pot of coffee in her hands, long nails tapping against it as she chewed her lip. She breathed deeply.
"Ella, are you okay? Another memory?" Asked a worried voice. Ella shook her head, undecided.

The lights were bright and they blinded her as she opened her eyes.
"Miss Holts?" A figure in crisp white clothes bent over her. She blinked.
"Ah, you're awake. You weren't severely burnt in the fire, but you will have a scar on you shoulder," They said. Their voice sounded distant to her. Why were they talking to her like an adult? She was only ten… Plus she had only just woken up! She was obviously in a hospital, but couldn't remember why. Then it clicked. The fire!
"Oh no! Did you find Sis? Is she okay? Is she here too? She got out, didn't she?" She asked frantically in a choked voice. Her vision focused and she saw a sad look creased into the female doctor's face.
"Her body wasn't found. We've organized a foster home for you," The doctor said. The ten year old didn't hear a word she said after that.

Ella's eyes were glassy. She dropped the coffee pot, the glass shattering. Coffee went all over her, shards rippling across the tiles. The bustling coffee shop almost fell into dead silence as she went down, face first onto the counter, crying. Fellow employees ran to her side, a few cleaning up and others trying to continue business as normal.

"Mr. Simons said you can go home," Said a comforting voice. Ella nodded, wiping at her mascara that had run down her cheeks. She stood, stuffed her red waitress' apron into her handbag, and grabbed a tissue. She dabbed at her eyes, observing her image in the mirror. The mascara that had been noticeable when it had settled on her cheeks was now almost gone. She attempted a smile, receiving a reassuring pat on the back from her friend, and left the room.
--
"Your boss rang," Suzie said to Ella, her face lined with sympathy. "He said that you had another breakdown at work today."
"I'm sorry, Sue, I heard a siren. I haven't been sacked, have I?" Ella asked, letting down her hair. Suzie was her foster mother; she had obviously just returned from her own shift of work.
"No, you haven't. He just says you should have a holiday, straighten out your feelings a bit." Suzie replied. She put a hand on Ella's shoulder. "I think so too. Even things as small as sirens are setting them off now. Go take a long bath and think about it, okay?" She asked softly. Ella nodded. She picked up her handbag from the couch and left Suzie standing alone.

Ella sighed as she climbed the stairs. She entered her room, opening her drawers. Pulling out a nightgown, she tried not to think of the fire. It had been almost eight years ago, but since she had never received counseling, the images of the aftermath had sent her into a steady spiral toward depression. She bit her lip, trying not to think about it. She had wore a nightgown in almost the same colour blue as this one on the night of the fire…Forcing her pajamas back down into the drawer, she pulled out a pair of boxer shorts and a singlet top instead. She grabbed a few bath gels from her duchess and walked out toward the bathroom. She reached out to open the door, only for it to swing inward. A balding man in a grey t-shirt and black trousers stopped short in the doorway.
"Hello, Ella," He greeted her. Ella gave a small smile.
"Hi, Owen," She replied. "Been working today, eh?"
"Yeah, was an emergency. Someone's car broke down and they really badly needed it," Owen replied. This was Ella's other foster parent, Suzie's husband, Owen.
"Wow. Can I…" Ella started. Bob squeezed past her, his gut bulging.
"Sorry, I was in your way. I'll talk to you later," He said. Ella nodded, walking into the bathroom. She placed her clothes on the bench, put the plug in the bath, and turned on the taps. She took her gels, squeezed some bubbles in, and then added some eucalyptus oil. Undressing, she timidly put her foot in the bath, before lowering her body in. She waited a bit more until the bath was at a reasonable height, turned off the taps, then sunk back, finally relaxing.

"I worry about her," Suzie said as Owen thumped down the stairs. "She's been having more of those breakdowns. Should we book her in for a psychiatrist?"
Owen shook his head. "No, at least, not until after her birthday," He said gruffly. Suzie nodded, her eyebrow creased in thought.
"Do you think she will leave us when she turns eighteen?" Suzie asked. She sat on the couch, immersed in deep thought.
"I can't say I know," Owen sighed. He sat next to Suzie.



w00t.

sweatdrop Haha, no, it isn't.