Trees rushed past in a blur of green and brown, like water spilled on a canvas. Brianna dully watched the landscape unfold, cheek pushed up against the glass. It had been like this for hours. Trees. Trees without end. More trees. Oh look. A bush.

The driver- one of the social worker ladies whose name she didn't know- glanced up at her through the rear-view mirror. Brianna ignored the look, continuing to stare through the glass. The woman kept staring her. Brianna kept her eyes glued to the window.

"Ahem."

She reluctantly peeled her eyes from the scenery.

"The town should be coming into view soon Miss."

"Oh," Brianna said, craning her neck to look out the front window.

If "into view" meant the gradual appearance of a rundown, ramshackle cluster of buildings on a narrow strip of cobblestone- well, then the driver was spot on.

"Is this... it?" Brianna asked with a frown.

"This is the business section, yes."

Brianna scrunched her nose up.

"How can this be 'business'?" she asked with disdain.

"Well, over there is the market," the social worker pointed as she drove by, "and that's a clothing store, I believe. I think that small squat building is an antique store." She sounded very unsure of herself.

"Hmm," Brianna grunted, resting her head on the seat in front of her. She let out a small sigh and closed her eyes. She hadn't slept well the night before. She never slept well before going to a new house. All the nerves had bunched up like a knotted, tangled rope in her stomach, and she had laid awake for hours, just staring at the ceiling of her new social worker's apartment.

Every home was a toss up. You had your younger couples, who, though full of energy, were unused to having teenagers. There were the old ones, who had all sorts of rules and regulations. Things could go from good to bad to disastrous in a matter of days.

Her last home hadn't been too bad. She had been more of an employee to Margaret Fillsworth, the old lady who owned a donut shop in New Jersey. The lady was kind, but strict, and had scheduled Brianna working before and after school.

She really hadn't minded working for Mrs. Fillsworth. And she wouldn't have left if not for the accident...

The car jolted, and Brianna's head jerked up. 

She must've fallen asleep, for some time had passed. The sky outside was darkening, the shadows stretching out across the road.

The car had turned onto an unpaved road and was lurching onward at a steady, bumping gait. Brianna peered out ahead, trying to see through the trees.

A flash of white appeared through the shadows. The car turned and then... there it was.

Brianna gasped. 

Pale white and towering above the foliage like a stranded foreigner was the biggest house she'd ever seen. 

Well, seen in real life. 

It was,in essence, a mansion. Sunlight dappling through the trees glinted off dozens of windows, making the entire edifice appear to be sparkling.

The dirt road turned into pavement as the car pulled up into the driveway- a courtyard with abstract bushes, bright exotic flowers, and decapitated statues.

Why are they always headless? Brianna wondered as they drove past the statues. Maybe it had something to do with the French guillotine- the luxury of the rich and wealthy to behead the poor? Either way, it was more creepy than beautiful.

The driveway wound around an elegant fountain and then nestled snug up against the side of the brilliant white house. Brianna turned her head back and forth, trying to take it all in.

She'd never expected to see this in the middle of the woods.

"Why didn't you tell me I was staying in a castle?" she blurted out, squashing her cheek against the window to get a glimpse of what appeared to be a butler shaking off carpets from a balcony. 

"I hadn't any clue, honest," the social worker said, parking the car alongside the driveway and cutting the engine.

Beneath an intricately designed archway, the front door began to open, swinging out on massive hinges. A lady in a black skirt and tight business coat emerged from the gaping maw of the mansion itself.

Brianna opened the door and stepped cautiously out of the car. The click clack of the lady's heels against the concrete echoed in the air as she stepped down a set of stairs. Her sky-blue eyes shone in the dim light and she smiled broadly as she approached.

"You must be Miss Sims," the lady said with- of course- a very proper British accent. "On behalf of the Ellington Estate, I welcome you to Master Aaron's Estate."

A song from Annie started playing in her head. The entire situation sort of reminded her of the red-headed orphan and her adorable adventures.

It kind of made her stomach turn. 

"Where should I put her bags?" the social worker broke through Brianna's thoughts as she wrestled with getting the rather large black suitcase out of the surprisingly small trunk.

"Oh don't bother yourself with Miss Sims' luggage, Johnathan will be out to collect it all in a moment." the British lady said.

As if on cue, a butler appeared and began assisting the social worker with Brianna's bag. His gloved hands slid the suitcase out with ease, and set it carefully down on the driveway. Then he unlatched the handle and began to roll it towards the house.

"Hey, where are you taking my stuff?" Brianna complained.

"Don't worry Miss, Johnathan will carry it up to your room for you," the British lady assured her. "is that... all of it, then?"

"Yeah," Brianna said dully, watching as the butler escorted her things up the stairs, the wheels thudding with each step. Ka-clunk! Zzzz. Ka-clunk! Zzz...The entirety of her life's possessions.

"Well, if that's that, I believe I'm done here," said the social worker, closing the trunk with a finalizing click. "You gonna be all right, Brianna?"

"I'm fine," Brianna responded. "I've done this before, remember?"

Although, she thought glancing at the mansion, its leering walls shadowed in the setting sun, this time around might be a little... different.