As a little girl, I was a happy bubbly child. I charmed adults with my smile, and they always did as I pleased. I don't remember my parents faces at all, but I vaguely remember them holding me in my lap, telling me classic bedtime stories. They loved me so much that one day, my parents tragically died by saving me from a crazy pedestrian who started shooting people with his pistol. The old man took out his gun and shot people dead, grinning manically. My parents pushed me to the road as they took the bullet. First my mom, then my dad. I remembered the blood-splattered pavement, the lifeless bodies, and my parents. Shot dead. 

For the first time in my life, I felt frightened and confused. 

I tried to hold back my tears, but they spilled down my bloodstained dress as I cried and called for my parents. As I tried to yank my hand away from the strong grip of a male police officer, he brought me to the station and told me to stay calm. I was scared of the new surroundings, and I started crying. It smelt a mixture of stale bread and air freshener, and I coughed and spluttered as I gasped for breath. I cried all night, but everyone ignored me. Suddenly, a young woman police officer led me to this room with white walls and a metal door. It quickly slammed behind me and a kind looking middle-aged policeman asked me some questions. He had crinkly dark brown eyes and a warm smile. I felt a sense of deja vu as I stared at his wispy white hair, and I stopped crying. He said: 

"Your parents are asleep. It's gonna be alright, kiddo. We'll help you find a relative to stay with." 

I stared at the table, stroking the scorch mark on the plastic table.  

"Who was that man holding the gun? Do you know him? What did he look like?" He asked me gently. 

"I don't know." 

His expression was slightly sterner now. 

"Cadence, you need to tell me. We need to find who put your parents to sleep. If he's on the loose, he could cause more danger." 

I stared up at the old man's white mustache and his thinning hair. 

"He looked like you,"

 I said with an honest smile, hoping that my charms could get me out of this scary place, back to my parents. The old man's face turned scarlet red, and he yanked the collar of my dress and threw me to the floor. 

"Stupid little brat!" He spat, kicking me with his black polished shoes.

His nostrils flared and sudden pain shot through my head. The last thing I saw from that night was the old man taking a pistol from his pocket, the opening of the iron door, following with a few gunshot sounds. After that, I passed out and saw black nothingness.

At the hospital, I met a little boy named Cooper who is now currently my best friend. For some reason, nurses were scared of me and they kept whispering behind my back, talking in low and hushed voices and flashing me with concerned looks. Cooper was staying on the bed next to me since he broke his leg and arm in a football match. 

"Hi," I mumble quietly. 

Cooper silently looks out of the window, not moving a muscle. His splint is covered in get-well-soon messages, and I can't help but to crumple my face and look at my bare empty bedside table. There were no get-well-soon cards or messages for me, not even a single flower or visitor. 

"Hi," I say louder, in case the boy couldn't hear me. 

Cooper turns his head and smiles, waving at me. 

"Heya. You new? I came here 2 days ago... Doc Dean says I need to stay for a day or two more then I can go home. Hey... I haven't seen your parents anywhere. Are they gonna visit you anytime soon?"

 Cooper sees my expression, and his eyes grow wide. "I'm so so sorry...." 

That was when I realized how mature Cooper was. He didn't goof around, pick his nose, did whatever 9-year-old boys did, he read thick books and drew comic strips. He showed me how to blow a bubble while chewing gum, and taught me how to take care of hamsters and dogs. Best of all, he called me Caddie. Caddie was my nickname, and it stuck like glue.

On the day that Cooper had to leave the hospital, his parents were about to pick him up. Tears streamed down my face as I watched Cooper, my only friend, leave me forever. As his parents gently guided him out the door, his mother saw me in the corner of her eye. "Dennis. There's a girl there." She said in a mysterious tone. Cooper's dad swiveled around quickly and clasped his hands over his mouth. "Oh my lord..." Cooper threw me a confused look, and his mother warily approached me, outstretching her hands and put on a forced smile. "Hey..." She paused to look at me. "What's your name, sweetheart?" I looked straight at her and gave her a nonchalant half-smile.  

"Cadence." 

His mother nodded her head and replied: "What about your last name?" I shrugged, disconcerted. "I-I.... don't remember." Why couldn't I remember?  

Frantically, Cooper's parents led me off the bed with trembling hands and spoke to me in a warm voice: "Come with us, darling. I know you've made friends with our Cooper. Would you like to stay with us for a little while?" Cooper jumped up and down with excitement and hugged me hard. "Hooray!! Mom, can she sleep on the bottom bunk?" Cooper rambled on and on as we left the hospital, and not a single nurse came to ask me why I was leaving. It saved a lot of trouble, really.

We're just like siblings, now that I've spent 5 years with him. His parents treat me way less 'weirdly' than they did that first couple of months I arrived, and I actually feel like I'm part of a new family that actually appreciates me. 

 It was as if my entire life had restarted, except my real parents were dead and the only people who acknowledged my existence were some random strangers whom I met 5 years ago and had gotten close to. 

Strange, huh?

(AUTHORS NOTE: First chapter, first impression! Whadd'ya think??? Honestly, it's okay. But, I feel this story can be developed into a good book. Is it too cliché? OH YEAH PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR NOT POSTING IN A LOOONGGG TIMMEEEE OKK??)