This is a new story, using my OC, Becky. But this is an entirely different story, and I hope you like it! I've had this story in my head for years, and it's just now that I'm publishing it. Enjoy! And thanks to FuzzyExorcist for editing!


Chapter 1: New Family

I rummage through the trash outside La Ratatouille, looking for something, anything, to eat. My foster family doesn't do a very good job of feeding me. Je m'appelle Becky. I've been living in France for about two years now. When I was 13, my parents brought me to Paris for a vacation. I was sitting alone in a cafe, and my parents were going to meet me there for breakfast.

They never came. On the way here, a car had swerved into the cab they had been using; not even the cab driver survived. I was then placed in a foster home, and two years later, at 15, I'm rummaging through the trash for something to eat. I hear a door open and I duck behind the trash can. A tall thin man comes out. He has red hair and a tiny beard on his chin.

The man comes towards me.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you." I stay behind the trash can.

"Parlez-vous anglais?" (A/N: "Do you speak English?", just in case you didn't know)

"Yes. I'm just scared. My past wasn't the best." I say, knowing it was the anniversary of my parents' deaths.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you. I promise." Slowly, I creep out from behind the trash can.

"So, why were you running through the trash can?" His tone isn't mean, it's curious. Like "I want to help" curious.

"I was...I was looking for something to eat." I say.

"Come inside with me. I'll fix you some soup."

"But I don't have any money."

"It doesn't matter. Come on."

"I'm Becky, by the way."

"I'm Linguini." Linguini puts an arm around me and we go inside. The kitchen was huge and so elegant, the smells made my stomach growl louder and ache more than what it had before. He fixes me some chicken noodle soup, after I tell him it's my favorite kind of soup. He then introduces me to his wife, Colette.

"So, what's your past?" Linguini asks as the three of us sit in the dining room.

"My...my past?" I ask, almost choking on a carrot.

"You're from the United States, right?" I nod.

"Did you move here or...?" Colette asks.

"No. My parents brought me here a couple of years ago for a vacation. And, two years ago todays, my parents were...killed in a car accident. I've been moving from foster home to foster home ever since." I say with tears in my eyes, missing my parents.

"Oh, my gosh. I'm so sorry. And no one's wanted to adopt you?"

I shake my head.

"No. No one wants to adopt a 15 year old. They want the younger kids or the babies." I say. Linguini is shocked, probably that I'm 15, because I'm so small, and also because I haven't been adopted yet. But, after Colette gives Linguini a curt nod - as if they're thinking the same thing - what Linguini says next shocks me.

"We'll adopt you." My jaw drops.

"You - you will?" I ask, hoping that they aren't playing some sick joke on me.

"Of course. Let's go to your foster home and get you adopted." Colette says.


Alors ... Vous aimez? Déteste? Vous voulez plus? Juste revoir s'il vous plaît!

Translation: So...Love it? hate it? Want more? Just review please!