Someone in the World

Summary: What happens when you have nobody left? When there's nobody to look out for you except yourself? Harlan hits the road and finds the one thing she thought she'd never have again: Hope. A story of a broken family and discovering that family doesn't need to be connected by blood. Rated T for now but later chapters will be M with the introduction of a romantic angle.

Warnings: Strong language and violence throughout. Later chapters will most likely contain scenes of a sexual nature (when the rating changes to M)

Disclaimer: This is all fiction! It all came from my crummy brain. Any songs, cars, movies, TV shows, celebrities, known wrestlers, or even brands mentioned all belong to their respective owners. The only people I "own" are the obviously fictional ones, such as Harlan Grace Matheson, her family, Ray and any other fake characters that pop into this. As wrestling fans, I trust we all know who I made up and who is real...That reminds me, if anyone happens to have that exact name combination (Harlan Grace Matheson), sorry...It's pure coincidence and chance. I spent several days coming up with that name. Please don't take it away from me.


A young woman lay in her bed, sleeping in her quiet, dimly lit room, graduation cap and robe thrown on the floor, yearbook sprawled open on the bed at her feet. Her chest slowly rose with even breaths, and her eyelids fluttered as the sounds from below began to reach her still sleeping ears.

"Ugghhh" She groans, as She drowsily pushes her hair away from her face and rubs her eyes, instantly regretting it as the black eyeliner smears itself on her hands. She shrugs and stretches, and with her mouth open in a yawn She stills as She realizes exactly what had awaken her.

"Don't do-Hiccup-this, NOOOO, I said I'd- Hiccup-have the money by th'end of th'week!"

"Listen, bitch. It IS the end of the week, so what are you gonna do now, huh?"

"Mebbe I can pay you-Hiccup-sm'other way, hehehehe."

The loud snap of what could only be a hand meeting a face resonates up the stairs.

"That kind of shit might work for some other fuckheads that you owe, but it ain't going to work in this case, mama. Cortez ain't playing around, you hear, you had your fun sporting, but now you've gotta pay up!"

"Aww, fuck, mom, not again" She says. Anger fills her, not fear, as She throws open her closet door to quickly throw on a hoodie to cover the simple black dress She had worn to her graduation. The black tulle netting underneath the short skirt was sorely out of shape from her nap, but She didn't seem to mind. She reaches up to the upper shelves in her closet and rummages around until She finds an old tin box, the kind butter cookies are sold in. She opens the tin and digs around and grabs what She's looking for.

Taking one deep breath, She flings open her bedroom door and stomps down the stairs, her heart beating fast and hard in her chest as the sounds of furniture being slammed around, glass breaking, and her mother's drunken sobs reach her ears.

She finds a tall and barrel chested Latino man in the living room, wildly searching through every book on the bookcase. As She walks towards him, She spots her mother cowering on the floor in front of the couch, face pressed into a couch cushion. As She gets closer, She sees that the man had apparently thought to look in the pictures frames, glass strewn everywhere on the floor. Her combat boots make short work of the glass, crunching with every step. The man turns at the sounds of her steps and his angry brown eyes zero in on her as he combs one hand through his greasy long hair.

"What do you think you're doing, mamasita, it ain't a good idea for you to be down here. This here is between me and your mama, okay?" he says to her, voice low and steady in an attempt to sound reassuring but She can hear the threat behind his words.

She throws her shoulders back and her chin goes up the tiniest bit.

"Listen, GUY, this shit's been happening since before I was 15. Just tell me how much she owes you and get the fuck out of my house!"

The man holds his hands up, clearly taken aback, and then his face breaks out in a grin.

"Whoa, whoa, mamasita, you gotta calm down, you don't wanna be saying something you'll regret. Besides, I don't think you get exactly how much candy your mama's been sporting. You really think a mamasita like you has the dollars for this?"

Frustrated, She kicks the already cracked leg on the coffee table, as the leg finally gives and the table crashes down at an odd angle, She moves even closer to the man.

"I get it, you're a big guy, and I should be scared, but I really just want you to go, so why don't you let ME worry about how much money I do or don't have. Give me a number, we'll settle this, because she sure as shit isn't going to pay you one red cent.", She says as She gestures to her mother's trembling form.

The man shrugs and gives her the amount. With an amused, yet intrigued, look on his face, he watches as the girl takes a roll of bills out of a pocket in her hoodie. She counts the bills quickly and stuffs what little remains back into her pocket. With an elastic band, She rolls up the payment and throws it to him. He catches it in that big hand of his.

"Technically, you owe me 20 bucks, but I have a feeling you're not in the habit of giving change", She says dryly.

The man laughs, a low rumble, "You've got that right, especially when it comes to late payments. Let's just call it Cortez's little gift, for being such a patient man with your mama." he winks as he makes his way out the backdoor.

She lets out a breath She hadn't realized She was holding and crouches down near her mother. She yanks the cushion out of her mother's hands and throws it back on the couch. As She smoothes her mother's disheveled hair out of her face, She checks her face for any damage. Her mother's left cheek is already bruising and her lip is split, blood dribbling down to her chin.

"Dammit, mom, look at you. You're such a fucking mess!" She says, as She uses her hoodie's sleeve to wipe her mother's tears.

Suddenly, her mother starts to laugh, an empty, humorless laugh.

"Oh, m'baby Harlan Grace, daddy's little girl. I can always count n'you, hmmm? That's righ'! B'cause you're sooooooo much better than me. You're gonna graduate one day, and you're gonna leave m'alone, yeeeep!" her mother's words slurring as she fruitlessly tries to get up from the floor.

She pulls her mother up off the floor, and with a lump in her throat She reminds her mother, for the millionth time this week, that today was her graduation day.

"Actually, I already graduated. Today, mom. It was TODAY. You weren't there, I didn't even know where you were this morning when I woke up and left the house. I came back to find you drinking in the back yard. So, yeah, one day I will graduate. That day being TODAY!"

Her mother sways unsteadily and absent mindedly reaches down to scratch herself between the legs through her baggy sweatpants.

"Tha'was today? Weeeeeeell, fuck me, hahaha. Congratulations, Gracie, let's go get y'daddy, mebbe I'll make a cake" she slurs, as she falls down onto the couch, her head falling back and her eyes closed.

Desperately trying not to cry, She takes a few steps back, her hands balling up into fists.

"Dad's dead, mom. He's been dead for the last 11 years..." She whispers, before running out of the living room and barging up the stairs to her room.