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flashback

"There isn't anyone found," the firefighter says, his eyes looking around the rubble. But the sight of a blanket causes him to freeze. He rushes over and brushes through the chard wood, his eyes widening.

"There's one! Code 4!" he yells, the others surrounding him and making a path as he lifts the body up. He rushes out of the house and lays the frail body on the gurney, rushing the girl into the ambulance. With skin covered in black soot, her pulse begins to strengthen as oxygen is placed through her.

The paramedics watch her closely and her eyes stay closed, too tired to wake up.

"She'll be waking up an orphan. Both parents burned too substantial," one paramedic says, receiving the messages from the police.

"Any relatives?" a woman asks, her brown hair pulled into a bun. She sees the girl, the young girl around sixteen. She's very small for her age, but she'd do anything to ensure she'll be okay. It's her motherly instinct.

"Only one. But she's in a nursing home. She'll be a foster. Or an adoptee," it's explained, the woman making sure the girl's pulse is stable.

"We'll set her in foster care. But if she has nowhere, I'll take her in," the woman explains.

The young girl coughs, her head turning. She opens her eyes and the woman gasps, the girl's bright green eyes almost more shocking then her son's. Her boy is admired by many, and his eyes are something she's always found fascinating. But this young girl has beautiful eyes.

"Hi sweetie, are you alright?" the woman asks, her eyes closing yet again.

"H-Hurts," she pants, the woman nodding.

"Your lungs?" the woman asks curiously, trying to figure out pain. And the girl only nods, her head turning to the side.

"W-What...?" she rasps out, her eyes looking around.

"Shh, just rest. It's okay," the woman says, the young girl nodding.

She closes her eyes and the woman aids in pushing the gurney in the hospital, an extensive exam done to ensure the young girl is okay. With just a few small burns and lack of awareness, the woman enters the room and asks to help the girl.

"What's your name?" the woman asks, her hands moving the bed to sit up.

"Clara," the girl speaks, her long brown hair now clean.

"I'm Anne. And I'll be your main caretaker here while you recover," she says, Clara's eyes wide and curious as she looks at Anne.

"W-What happened?" Clara asks, her eyes almost brimming with tears already. She knows something has happened, but unclear on how extensive the damage will be to her life.

"You were in a house fire. A candle caught fire to curtains in you parents' room," Anne explains, Clara covering her mouth with her hand. Tears fall from her eyes and Anne takes her other hand, knowing the news isn't going to fair well.

"You're parents passed away, Clara. I'm so sorry," she says, Clara breaking down. Anne's motherly instinct kicks in and moves to hug her, the girl shaking in her arms.

"Gone," she cries, hugging onto Anne tightly. Anne holds the young girl as long as she needs, not getting a hug like this in years. Both her kids are grown, but her motherly instinct has yet to disappear.

"I'm here," Anne soothes, the girl clinging to her as if she couldn't sit up by herself.

"I'm alone. W-What am I going to do?" she cries, the tears unable to stop. 

"We have to keep you here. Just until you heal. But we need to know your age," Anne says, the young girl letting go and wiping her cheeks.

"Eighteen," she whispers, Anne surprised. Her stature and build are so slim, but her features are incredibly mature. She had assumed sixteen.

"Then you have a choice to either look into foster care or moving on to be your own person," Anne explains, Clara crying. Her cheeks are stained and her heart is broken; her life falling apart.

"I-I can't be on my own. N-No," she cries, Anne grabbing Clara's hand.

"It'll be okay. We'll help you with everything you need Clara," Anne assures, Clara laying back. Her eyes are swollen and her body feels empty. She's all alone; nothing to rely on.

Anne makes sure she's comfortable in the hospital every day. Anne attempts to fill the empty void but nothing seems to help.

Clara is led to the shower and she is allowed to be alone, her body skin and bones at this point. She steps beneath the warm water and she spots one thing in the shower: a razor. She grabs it, observing it in a whole new sense.

Then she does something she had never thought of doing before. She drags the blade against her wrist and her tears begin to fall again. She watches the blood drip from her skin and she leans against the wall, crying as the water falls on her.

Clara hides her freshly harmed skin with a long-sleeved shirt, but her pain only continues. She's lost; nothing can help her pain fade.

Days pass and Clara's physically healed, but her mind is clouded. Anne sees the pain she's in and she moves to sit across from her in the commons, Clara not even looking up.

"Clara, would you want to come stay with me?" Anne asks, Clara looking up. She's barely able to process the words spoken to her, Anne concerned about her mental health.

"Clara?" Anne pushes, Clara's attention slowly catching up to see Anne.

"I-I don't...I don't know," Clara manages, her mind slow. She can't process anything, it seems. She's confused and dazed.

"I'll help you with anything you need. You need someone to help and I'm more than willing. Clara," Anne rushes, seeing Clara collapse in her seat. Nurses swarm to her and Anne helps the doctors lift her arm, but shock covers all the nurses.

"She's been self-harming. How have we not known?" one nurse asks, the poor girl's forearms covered with think raised lines. There's barely a touch of visible skin.

Oxygen is pumped into Clara's mouth and her vital signs become more stable, the nurses all watching her wake up.

"Clara, we need to take you to the therapist," Anne soothes, brushing the girl's hair back.

Clara frowns and realizes her arms are on show, her eyes widening. "No. I don't want to," she retaliates, but Anne shakes her head.

"Doctor's rule. You've done this here. We need to know why," Anne says, and Clara nearly cuts her off.

"Because I want to die! I have nothing!" she cries, covering her face with her hands. Anne's heart breaks again watching the poor girl's vulnerability eat at her life. She's more than that and has so much potential. This is a major roadblock, but repair is necessary.

"We'll help you see you have a world around you that can give you things to fill in the void. Hurting yourself isn't going to help you. It makes everything worse. You are a beautiful girl with so much potential. Anyone can see that," Anne explains, the tears streaming down Clara's cheeks.

"My parents...they aren't here. They were everything to me," she cries, the pain entering again. Clara is the only child and her parents' most prized possession. They gave her the world, just as they were her world. Now it's gone and she has never been so lost.

"I know, beautiful. And I am going to make sure you stay safe and okay."

.....
Hey Loves!
What do you think? I'm playing off some of the comments about a suicidal girl so I hope you enjoy! I love writing from your ideas and for that, I hope it makes reading the books more special to you!
Much Love! <3 xoxo