C.H.A.S.M. [MARVEL FANFICTION] ✓completed

Introduction

"I guess I just never fit in."

That's what I would start this story with if I'd wanted your pity. But I don't need it, so instead I'll start with;

"I've always been able to manage on my own."

My parents died in a car crash, which, if I was a normal person, I would believe. But I'm not normal, and it seems a bit cliché to me. Also, why would two parents be in the same car without their two year old, and what kind of babysitter then leaves the kid at an orphanage with a letter that says;

'Her parents died in a car crash. Her name is Penny.'

CLICHÉ, I tell you. Do you have any idea how many orphans out there were found with a small piece of paper with something along those lines written on it? I could name a few. Okay, I can name one. But still, it's cliché. Too cliché.

Whatever reason my parents had for dumping me, (and I can guess which one it was) I don't need them anymore. In fact, if they were to show up now, wanting me back, I'd refuse.

"I'm fifteen now mom, and if you'd wanted a moody teenager, you should've decided not to drop me off at an orphanage thirteen years ago."

Maybe they really are dead. Maybe I'll never know what it's like to have parents. But that's totally irrelevant anyway. I mean, who needs parents anyway? I have food, water and shelter here at the orphanage, and as close as I'll ever get to "friends". Besides, I totally blew my chances of being adopted anyway, so I shouldn't hope for anything. Am I overusing the word anyway? Nah, only three times in the last paragraph so far. Anyway. (Four.)

A̶n̶y̶w̶a̶y̶,̶ So as I was saying, I blew my chances of adoption when I was nine, with the Hoffersons.

They were a sweet couple really, but totally incapable of handling children. They just spoilt me with rich food and fancy clothes, but didn't give me any attention. They kept calling me silly names. They treated me like a child.

Okay, so I was a child. But after two days I was literally and figuratively SICK of it (although I still have that IPhone). I ran away, back to the orphanage. Now that I think of it, I should've just run away away. But I didn't; I went back to the orphanage, where I got the same horrible treatment and meagre attention as everyone. But at least I had space — I can't stand being locked up. It goes against my instincts.

You know, Miss Brighton was right. It does help to write stuff down. But because I'm an author, I'm going to write it in the style of a book from now on. (Don't you start on the fact that I haven't published a single book yet.)

The main character — me. Dirty blonde hair, with one rebellious streak that's lighter than the rest; almost white. Blue eyes. Lightly tanned, and usually wearing jeans. I don't do dresses. Impatient, wild and uncontrollable. At least, that's how I'd describe myself. You'll have to decide for yourself.

My name is Penny. Nobody really knows my real surname. But at the orphanage, they've nicknamed me Penny Maximoff.

Which is more appropriate then anyone knows.