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Walking through the gate of the airport, I can't help but feel at somewhat home once the plane landed. I've been in New York for almost a year and it's almost as cold here in California as it was over there, which is something I don't really miss. But I've gotten used to it.

I quickly stride over to baggage claim, standing between two other females as I watch out for my distinct suitcase; all of my other stuff was already shipped over here in Beacon Hills, so all I have in my suitcase is a few clothes and my basic necessities, and a backpack that has some of my few cherished books and notebooks, one that has my initials on it.

After a few minutes I see the medium-size purple suitcase and a red backpack next to it with the initials M.A.T.A. printed in white cursive on the one front pocket and the front of the suitcase. I quickly grab it from the belt and sling the bag onto my back, pulling the handle up from the suitcase. Turning on my heel, I make my way through the crowd with the suitcase rolling behind me.

A couple months into freshmen year, my sister Nessa thought it'd be great to send me to live with my Aunt Andriana in New York City, right before the eighth anniversary of our parent's death. It was okay at first, I met some great friends who I went through the rest of my freshman and the first part of my sophomore year with, but then something really bad happened and I couldn't bear to be reminded of it every day, so here I am. Back home.

My older sister, Nessa, will probably have a ridiculous sign to embarrass me so I guess finding her will be a piece of cake.

I make it to a part of the crowd in the front where other people were holding up signs with names written on them. I immediately find the sign that my grinning sister is holding. Mare-Mare Archer in big, bold letters. A small groan leaves my lips at the childhood nickname that my older brother, Nikolai, made up when I was a little girl and it just kind of stuck, embarrassed.

Then my eyes fall to the shorter strawberry blonde next to her who has a beaming smile and glassy green eyes. Lydia Martin.

Tears spring in my eyes and my heart twists with emotions, and I sprint towards them as fast as I can with the suitcase and almost tackle my best friend in a hug, dropping my luggage in the process. "Lyds!" I cry happily, letting a few tears escape my eyes.

She returns the hug tightly, chin on my shoulder. My arms wrap securely around her waist and hers are around my shoulders, squeezing the life out of me.

"Oh, my God! I missed you so much!" She cries, equally joyful but I can tell she's about to cry like I am, a few tears already slipping down my cheeks as I refrain from sobbing with joy.

Lydia Martin has been my friend since first grade, and we're like sisters. Twins, practically. We spoke in unison so many times that it got creepy, both of us were smart for little kids and we still are geniuses, and we were so close that our parents let me go with Lydia to visit her grandmother. She's like a second sister and I've missed her so much this past year.

I feel the second pair of arms wrap around the both of us, my one arm moving from Lydia's waist to wrap around my sister's. "I missed you, too," I whisper, feeling at home finally with two of the most important people in my life. I may have made great friends in New York, but these two are the people I consider to be my family, and one of them technically is my family.

We stand there like for a while, tears being shed as we just hold each other. But after a while we break apart, Lydia smiling softly as she strokes my arm. "I think Danny is waiting for us at your house," she tells me, laughing at my reaction. Danny is another friend since elementary school, and we talked almost every day that I was gone like I did with Lydia. They were the first people I told about my decision to come back home.

"Gods, it's great to have you back, Mary Anne," Nessa says quietly, pulling me back in for another hug but it's shorter than the other.

"It's great to be back," I chuckle, holding one strap of my backpack and taking the handle of my suitcase.

I walk between them as we begin to leave, a small smile spreading upon my lips. I'm finally home, back with my family. After the year I've had in New York, it's great to be back.

And one thought enters my mind as we step out of the airport.

Hello, Beacon Hills.

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First chapter! Whoo!

And I know it's short, but some prologues are so sorry. Also, I know it's Riley in the GIF, just use your imaginations to picture it is Lydia. Thanks to the people reading my story, and please vote and comment what you thought.

Void_Stiles_is_Life xx