She wasn't really wandering around, actually. She was going somewhere but she didn't know where yet.

She couldn't remember what had happened to her or where she should be right now. Probably nowhere. She didn't have any memories of anybody really caring about her enough to try and keep her somewhere. So if they didn't care about her staying, why should she remember them? She guessed that maybe her mind had just deleted those useless memories. If she didn't need them, then why keep them? If they didn't serve any real purpose for her then they weren't good for anything. If they couldn't help her survive, it was better that she didn't have them anyway.

She held her stomach as she approached what looked like the back of a house or some kind of dwelling at least. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she'd eaten. Hell, she couldn't even remember the last thing she'd eaten. She was sure, however, that if she didn't eat something soon...

Well, she didn't really want to think about that. She'd find something.

She stumbled into an open backyard and felt her legs give out beneath her. She landed in the grass, and wasn't able to catch herself. She did a full-on face plant in the dirt and something cut her. In response to the pain, not to mention getting even filthier than she already was, she simply began to scream. She didn't care who heard her. Maybe somebody would hear her and take pity on her and give her something to eat before sending her to one of those mental places she remembered. That was really all she could remember of her adult life before this; screaming and crying and people trying to attack her.

Out of the blue she heard what sounded to her like a gunshot. She didn't scream again but she began to cry. She sobbed into the ground and as she did she heard someone yelling at her. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but she knew it was a man. It sounded like maybe he was threatening her; telling her to get off his land, maybe.

Then another voice rang out, criticizing the man. This voice was female, and was easier to hear. "Hoyt, that is just about enough of that hollerin'! And for God's sake would you put that damn gun away? Bet you're scarin' whoever's out there half to death!"

"Well, the job's half done then! Hell, Mama, what are you thinkin' about? Anybody comes lookin' around here, you know they ain't gonna be nothin' but dead meat! And that's emphasizin' on the-"

"Why don't you shut that big yap of yers, Hoyt? Go get Tommy, I'm gonna see who's out there."

The male grumbled but she heard footsteps heading inside. "Fine, but you better hope it's some good meat."

She lay still as she could, tears running down her face. Her throat hurt from the crying, but she managed to get out a strangled shriek, to let the woman know where she was. "H-Here," she choked out. "I'm h-here."

"Okay, I'm comin'.' A woman leaned over her, brown eyes shining with curiosity and then concern. "My goodness, look at you. You all messed up and you ain't even dressed proper." A hand came down on her stomach, warm and cold and harsh and gentle all at the same time. "Can you hear me, darlin'?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh. Where am I, ma'am?"

"Hewitt family house. My name's Luda Mae; the one with the gun and the big mouth was Hoyt. You wanna come inside a while?"

She nodded again. "Yeah, okay."

"Alright then." Luda Mae tugged at her arm, trying to pull her up. "Come on now, I know you can walk. You wanna go in, you gotta get up. I ain't gonna carry you."

She didn't think she was all that heavy, but she supposed it didn't really matter. She struggled to get up, using the hand Luda Mae gave her as leverage to stand. She got up at last but she was still holding onto Luda Mae, tired and just wanting to sit or lie somewhere.

"Alright, alright, lean on me, darlin'." Luda Mae supported her and helped her walk up the steps and into the house. "Okay, we're here."

She lifted her head to see a young man in front of her. It looked like he was wearing a mask made from... leather maybe? His hair was black and fell to at least his shoulders, if not longer. He was dressed simply, like Luda Mae, in just dark pants and an off-white T-shirt. It looked like he had blood on the shirt, but she couldn't be sure.

Luda Mae let go, and she stood on her own; shakily, but independent at least. Luda Mae gestured to the young man. "This is Tommy. Tommy, this is..." She trailed off, glancing back. "What's your name, hon?"

She shook her head, rubbing her arm. "I don't got one. Nobody ever called me nothin' but 'girl' or 'brat'."

"Well, we gotta figure out a name for ya." Luda Mae circled around her, biting her lip as she thought. "Hmm. You look like a... Hope. You like that?"

She nodded. "Okay. My name is Hope." She couldn't remember what that word meant, but she knew it meant something good. She liked having a name that was good.

Luda Mae smiled brightly and turned back to Tommy. "Okay then, Tommy, this is Hope."

Tommy nodded, but he never looked up and met her eyes. That made Hope think that maybe something was the matter with her; how did she look, after all? She'd just been face down in the ground... she was probably a little dirty.

"Don't you worry about that, he's just a bit shy." Luda Mae gave Hope a small shove forward, toward Tommy. "Tommy, you show her where the bathroom is so she can get cleaned up."

Tommy nodded and gestured to her, as if to say, Come on, follow me.

Hope trudged up the stairs after him. He may have been big, but he sure was fast, so she had a time keeping up with him. It made her laugh a little bit, as she followed him. "Tommy! Where's the bathroom?"

He pointed to a door, then stood with his back to the wall, and nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Are you going to wait there for me?"

Another nod.

"Okay. I'll be out in a few minutes." She walked into the bathroom and closed the door, making sure it wasn't locked. If Tommy needed to get in, after all, it wouldn't do if the door was locked. Besides she wasn't doing anything but washing up - she wasn't taking her clothes off or anything. She turned the faucet for water and it came on. She looked around for a washcloth but then decided she shouldn't use anything more than necessary and she could wash her face with her hands.

She looked up to see the damage, took one look in the mirror, and screamed.

... I really do have NO excuse for this... especially starting another fic when I should be finishing a bunch of others.

I promise, though, that the next chapter will be better. ... Why, you may ask? Well... I INCLUDED TOMMY'S POINT OF VIEW NEXT CHAPPIE! WOOT.

Well... um... tell me what you think I guess. But no mean comments please? I'm trying to keep everyone in character. If I'm not please tell me but don't be nasty about it.

Thanks for reading and possibly reviewing! ^^