Last Chance

Chapter 1: Skye

Feeling groggy, Skye slowly opened her eyes. Where was she? Looking around didn't provide any help.

She was lying on a bed, though harder than the kind of mattress she was used to having. The bedroom she was in was definitely not stylish, nor was any of the odd posters and random things lying around in the room hers. It was also painted a light pink colour, with yellow drapes covering the one window at one side of the room. There was also only one dresser, hardly enough to carry the huge amount of clothes Skye had lying around in her rooms at her house.

Then everything that had happened before hit her. She remembered. The white world, the angel, the car accident.

Gasping, she realized she could see something besides white mist again. Laughing hysterically, Skye felt nothing could be better. Though, something must've been messed up in the transfer process because she was definitely not in the right bedroom.

Getting up, she stretched her long legs, trying to get the kinks out of her body. Who knew how long she was out.

Walking into the open washroom that connected to the room, she proceeded to wash the gritty feeling off her face. That was when she stopped and gasped into the mirror. "What happened?" she screeched to herself.

Her hair was not beautifully curled anymore, which was totally natural, unlike what most of her friends in the clique thought. It was now lying unnaturally flat against her head. The colour was awful as well. It was no longer the beautiful light brown with carefully-placed blonde highlights by her highly-paid, personal hair dresser. It was a regular dark brown with darkened-black tips at the ends. Not only was it unfashionable, it was so unlike her. She couldn't walk out the house to school looking like this!

A small, feminine voice broke into her tyrant of thoughts. "Jayme, why the heck are you screaming so early in the morning? But whatever it is, save it for later and hurry down. Mom's going to be mad if you're late for breakfast again." Then Skye heard padded feet running down the hall and some clomping sounds, like the girl was scurrying down the stairs.

Unsure of what she just heard, Skye pondered it as she slowly opened the bedroom door, taking a careful peek outside. The small hallway was empty. Sounds carried up from the small wooden staircase at the end of the hall, like dishes clanging against each other and people speaking in loud voices.

Carefully going down the stairs, she saw a tiny table with a girl, who looked a few years younger than her, and two older boys with identical floppy hairstyles sitting there. Wanting to escape the house before anyone saw her, Skye knew her plan wasn't going to work the moment she stepped on a creaky step. Everyone looked up from the table at her.

The same feminine voice, who had yelled at her from behind the door, proved to be from the girl as she said up to her, "Jayme, didn't I already tell you once this morning to hurry it up? I don't want to get to school late again." Turning to someone in the kitchen, she added, "Mom, why can't I just bike to school myself? Waiting for Jayme always makes me nearly late for class. It's her fault that I got so many late slips this year."

Aghast at being referred as Jayme, Skye stood frozen on the bottom step of the stairs. How could she be Jayme? They had to be referring to Jayme Thompson. After all, it was not that common of a name. But she looked nothing like Jayme, or even her old self. There was no makeup around in the washroom, so for once, her face was devoid of anything but its natural look. So why were they treating her as if she were Jayme?

The only answer that came was that the angel had messed up somehow and made people think she was Jayme. She didn't know if that was something she wanted.

"What are you waiting for, pipsqueak?" one of the older boys asked, not aggressively, but not really caringly either.

"Uh," Skye replied, unsure of what to say. She wasn't used to this. She had an older brother, but they rarely talked or saw each other at home that it sometimes felt like she was an only child. "I'm coming. Just...kind of spaced out?" she finished lamely.

"Whatever," came the reply, the guy already turning his attention back to his sandwich that he was making on the counter. The other identical guy, probably his twin, was doing the same, though he never once gave her another look after the initial one.

Skye was really unused to this. Being looked at again by guys their age, who were probably either seniors or freshmen in university, was something that happened wherever she went. It had to be her long legs and thin profile. Oh, and of course, her lavishly good looks. But looking the way she was now, she knew it would be impossible to attract any male attention. Not that those two were worth her effort anyway, since she never found the rugged look appealing in guys.

Heading into the kitchen, a woman in her mid-forties, assumingly Jayme's mom, came forward, her hands resting on her ample hips. "Jayme Thompson, hurry up and make your lunch. There will be no time for you to eat breakfast by now so you better get going. Another late slip from you and that car you've wanted will not be given to you." Turning to the other girl, she said, "It'll be given to Helen instead, who deserves it more with her responsibility."

Skye felt a bit enraged at that, for Jayme's sake. "What do you mean by that? Running late is hardly the excuse or reason to withhold a car! And I doubt a girl who yelled at me so early in the morning is deserving of a car."

A shocked look descended on the woman's face. "How dare you be so ungrateful, girl? After all this family has given to you, providing you a home and all the necessities, you are feeling like you deserve more? We could've left you at that orphanage, especially after hearing from all your previous families what a horrible child you are." She winced at the present tense but the woman continued in her ranting. "But we didn't, against our better judgement, and now you're here. Ungrateful!" With a huff, she added in a louder voice, "For that, you'll be on cleaning duty this weekend while we're all at the town fair. That should make you realize what this family has done for you already."

Skye had no idea if she was kidding or not. Looking at the three siblings, or rather, foster-siblings of Jayme's, she began to understand a bit of how hard her life was here at home. All of them ignored her, treating her with no respect at all. She really had no clue that Jayme was orphaned. No wonder she's always so hard-edged and scowling, she thought. You'd have to be if you wanted to stay alive in this household as the odd one out. Skye felt regretful that she hadn't held her tongue though. It would be her fault if Jayme had to clean up this weekend because of her verbal lash at the woman. Though, in her opinion, that woman really had it coming.

Then something the woman said rang in her mind. A town fair? Their little town on the outskirts of Manhattan Island didn't have all that many people, though at the moment, there was a rising number of teenagers around. A town fair only happened once a year here. And that supposedly had happened this year already.

The younger girl's voice broke into her thoughts, knocking out what she was just about to do. "What are you standing there for? Make your lunch and get going. I'm sick of waiting for you in the mornings." Like mother like daughter, Skye thought dryly as she hurried to do as was asked. Biting back another scathing remark, which she knew she would regret later, she realized two things at that moment. One, she had to bike to school, instead of getting a ride, and she had to make her own lunch, which seemed to be just regular, old PB & J sandwiches. And two, she never wanted to live another moment in Jayme Thompson's life.