You guys have two questions:

1. IS this story new or just editing? Or what's going on with the way I'm posting?

BOTH. So, I was reading this story over and there are some mistakes that I wanted to fix, as well as the details that I wanted to add and made notes for now. Somethings will be changed, I'm actually adding about 2000 words to each chapter up to chapter sixteen so far. So I recommend reading because when I start updating brand-new chapters (that haven't been read or posted) I want everyone on the same page.

2. How old is Faith?

I think - plus many others - that you that are saying Faith is 20 years old, because you've read quickly and mistook what I actually wrote. Dmitri told Faith a fake history starting from 1994, I didn't say that she was born in 1994. In the prologue I'm sure it's in like two places saying it's her seventeenth birthday, and plus the date of said birthday: July 3rd.

A/N: SLIGHTLY more EDITED THAN BEFORE.

Chapter 2 – Brand-New Day (Faith POV)

One man took my life from me, and now, another – a friend of his – had come to give it back to me. There really was not other way to explain what was happening as I leaned my head against the car window and the new man, Walsh Pomme drove me away from safety.

Though I'm sure he thought it was prison.

As we left, I did wish that we were leaving when I could see more of all the land I watched from my spot alone on the mountain. It was different, more confusing than I had imagined when looking down at the hidden passage between the trees. I could, for the most part only see pieces of Dmitri's approach and departures, but now, with the forests above me, I cannot merge my location to the image I have from up above.

Then, nearly ten minutes into the drive, I see why Walsh said it took him nearly three hours to reach me; Dmitri had explained my location somewhat truthfully. "I'll always protect you my malen'kaya kukla; and so there is much one has to do to harm you in your house."

I truly believe that I could walk down the mountain faster than Walsh Pomme was driving down. Side to side, my body swayed as his car slowly trekked the passageway until we came to a halt and the man next to me exited the truck, walking to a post. When his eyes flicker down, I follow and see that hidden between the grit, were spikes that the light from the car was causing to flicker.

Walsh opens a panel, removing a small device, almost disappearing in his hands before touching something on the device and I watch where he does – to the ground to watch the little spikes lower completely. Without even Walsh needing to explain as he entered the car again, I knew what he had just done. It was a trap. On top of the unsafe, brush-filled passageway Dmitri had created, were booby-traps.

Unsure, trapped between relief and dread, I lock myself away in my mind, holding silent, still and utterly fearsome – chastising myself on loop along with remembering the rules of the Loyalists that Dmitri had repeatedly spoken of.

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The controlled air.

The sunsets and sun rising over the mountains.

The colors that swirl deep and angrily in the sky.

The safety I found in silence.

Silence period.

The list of things I did not realize that I would miss as I settled barely into Walsh's home, it wouldn't be where I remained for July and August, I lived with him and his partner Patricia, the other person we picked up on our way off the mountain.

Where Walsh had an air of overt seriousness, Patricia felt like Jack from the 'Jack in the Box,' Dmitri had gifted me when I turned five. We drove cross-country to Bend, Oregon – Patricia following us – and even that was fought with peril really, as we ventured more and more, it should have been expected but the panic attack that took place was only a matter of time sort of thing.

With many stops at different 'rest stops,' one night in a hotel, me fighting sleep but the calm low music Walsh played and what he gave me for anxiety he said until he could get me to a 'professional,' we made it to his home in Oregon.

I continued with my looking for the next step, concentrating on the next thing to keep me calm, every person I saw outside, every car, truck, child, adult, young, old... I continued to feel a pang of hurt in my chest. It was an intensive two months, not letting myself get attached to Patricia or Walsh, I learned he worked for the F.B.I as did she, and while this was their home, they spent most time in Virginia but since they had both went to this school I would be attending, were known around the town, it was the best place they felt I could be.

Oregon School for Math, Science and the Arts.

The place I'd call home for the next school year.

The institution that Patricia helped me get prepared for although, there was only so much she could teach me about this world in two months that they were able to take off. Vacation time that was meant to spent sailing but she wouldn't trade helping me for it. I'm not sure if she was attempting to be nice, but I was still grateful and while I didn't know about this society I was being brought into, I knew my way around their kitchen and was able to pay back their efforts in the form of home cooked meals. Which – after forcing myself to remain calm inside of the grocery store, like the ones that I saw from old pictures but thought no longer existed because of the war, that was fictional... For a while, I just stopped talking all together when I realized nothing at all was as I thought it was.

Thankfully, neither Walsh nor Patricia asked where I learned to cook? How? Or any questions that led back to the pitiful pretty self-explanatory answer... Dmitri and then once I learned to make my own meals, Dmitri could be away for longer periods of times. Cookbooks. Trial and error.

"What if she had an accident while cooking? A fire?!" I heard Patricia whispering harshly to Walsh, "She was afraid to go outside – my God – she did not even have the code to leave the house..." She groaned a sob following right after. "This is not an excuse, but... have you watched her in the kitchen Patty? Faith is methodical-" I tuned the rest of their conversation out.

They bought me a cellphone, a computer, new clothes, books and personal supplies; Patricia tried and failed in teaching me how to drive. The idea of being on the road with others was terrifying so I decided I'd walk where I needed to go.

For the most part I'd be on the campus anyways.

I had already come before today, getting to know my surroundings, my teachers, how to get around, just familiarizing myself with everything. Yet my nerves were now in the form of butterflies in my stomach, but this was what was coming next. Moving into my room in the girls' dormitory.

Others would be moving in tomorrow, but today, I would. Just one more thing besides asking for my own room for special reasons, which I'd be getting, although that brought me comfort as well. Box by box, by crate we carried all my belongings, new and old, into my room. My bed on the left side had an actual mattress, and on the left I decided to place my portable record player, and my crates of vinyl's along the edge. Walsh had bought me a microwave and mini-fridge to store drinks and snacks, placing them around the room, with everything else until my things were settled neatly and in place.

When the last piece of clothing had been put away, and there was nothing else, I looked away from Walsh and Patricia, I knew it was coming, that they'd leave but I had – still – let myself get attached to them. And though I found Patricia to be comical, and hovering, I would miss not having her around.

"Hey we aren't just going to cut out and run on you," she said calmly her face kind and knowing. I nodded, but that wasn't true, because tomorrow would be a brand-new day. So we went to the mall, their way of getting me accustomed to large groups of people, they showed me where my therapists office would be, and then after a late dinner, and going back to my dorm room for a movie, one made after 1994 – the left around 11pm.

"You can call us Faith," Patricia said, her voice thick and I didn't understand why her eyes were watery now, "Anytime, I want you to call me okay?" she said sternly, and I just nodded biting on my bottom lip. I didn't know what else to do, but I knew that I had to make this work, I had no other options so I thought of what I would do next after Walsh and Patricia left.

Paint my nails. I had never done that sort of thing but Patricia introduced me to it, and I liked the attention I had to pay to make sure it was done well. So... I would do that next.

"Text us, Skype us, anything..." Patricia said seriously, and to that I smiled. "I'll do the same, okay Faith. I know you're going to be busy, and making friends, but-"

"It's okay, I'm used to being on my own Patricia, I'll be fine..." I told her because she had to leave. I don't smile, because I just don't have the heart for it. Throwing her arms around me, I melt in the embrace, my eyes closed; but I concentrate on what I'll do next.

When she steps away, leaving Walsh and I, "You have your funds, if you lose your cards-"

"Call and cancel them, and order – request new ones – and if I don't know something, don't be ashamed to ask," a smirks grows on his face as I parrot back what he's been telling me.

"If you can't reach Patricia or I-"

"Ask the resident advisor on this floor, or if it's private ask my therapist when I meet her. If I panic and can't reach you guys, call Dr. Clark." He nods back, his eyes darting around my new room.

"You take care Fatima," he says wrapping his muscular arms around my shoulders, releasing me, Walsh turns and he leaves. And I'm in the silence, and before I let emotions take over, I do what I knew came next. Taking my pills, I shower when my nails dry, change into pajamas and naturally exhausted I fall asleep to the low sounds of Sinner Man by Nina Simone until a light knock startles me sometime the next afternoon, nearly midday when I get my bearings.

Startled, I sit upright in bed, blinking and rubbing my eyes, "Hello – it's your sort of new room mates," the person on the other side said through the door, thankfully I had locked it before going to sleep. Leaving my bed, in shorts and a t-shirt, my hair probably a natural disaster on my head, I slowly opened the door.

Nerves exploding in my stomach, my heart beating quickly, hammering loudly, that I'm surprised I couldn't hear it, and those on the other side of the door as well like a sounding drum. Only opening the door no more than nine or so inches, I'm face to face with a young girl, and since I know only juniors and seniors are in this dorm, I'm guessing she's either 17 or 18. Her blue eyes, with a bit of gray around her pupil seemed just a tad odd from the blue violet like irises. Long honey colored hair falling from a messy braid, and thick brown eyebrows are pushed together as she stares at me.

"Hi... I'm Talia Conrad," I nod knowing that name sounded familiar, and with that introduction other people entering and leaving the common area of our dorm all stop to gaze at me, "I'm Faith," I whisper my heart racing, my nerves causing a painful twisting-like feeling in the pit of my belly.

Talia nods, "Yeah we know, this is Harleigh," she points to the girl to the left behind her and since I'm guessing its introductions time I open the door wider, venturing out just a bit further than the doorjamb. Harleigh with dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, though hers are missing the gray around her pupil, comes forth.

"Hey... How old are you?" she asks abruptly, her voice thick and lower than Talia. "Seventeen," the truth. "What program are you in?"

"Performing arts, vocal and guitar," sadly I had spent a week or so practicing to give out answers so I'd be prepared, because blending in, that to me had been what came next. I wouldn't go as far as trying to make friends since I learned that most of these kids had been together since third grade but the occasional hello didn't sound too bad either. It was only for a year I told myself. After eighteen, sadly, I didn't know what I wanted too do. That list I kept... of things I wanted to try, experience, somehow, they felt like goals for another girl, in another world.

A smile grew on her Harleigh's face, "I play bass," I nod a small smile on my face.

"I'm Paige," another girl said and this time Talia stepped to the side, "I'm seventeen too, I'm rooming with Caterina," she pointed to the blonde in jeans and a ratty shirt, her hair much like Talia's.

"So we're the roommates," Talia concluded, "And these are our slaves, Brennan and Thaddeus," the two larger than her guys snorted but still grinned at me. My eyes slowly make my way over each of their facial expressions and their eyes... I had read many books on genetics that Dmitri brought for me, but looking at these newcomers, I noted that they all had the same type of blue, with the gray ring irises.

So taken with the details, though it feels like minutes pass between Talia's comments, it's only a short time, before she laughs lightly, "I'm kidding," a snort follows, "these are our brothers – we're missing Samson though." I nodded not sure what was coming next – people did not just stand around and look at one another for long periods of time doing nothing or saying nothing, but my dilemma was that I didn't know what came next.

Thankfully, Talia carries on, "So we heard you moved in yesterday," I nodded. "In a rush to get away from your parents?" she laughed again, freely and because I had practiced the lie I would tell when asked I just shook my head lightly, plastered a believable – I hope – smile on my face and replied. "No, they travel a lot and so friends of the family helped me move in yesterday," that part not truly a lie, Walsh and Patricia were friends of Dmitri and up until July I thought of him as family.

For a moment, right after Talia gestured to her brothers to get to moving, and they just tapped her and moved along, I felt a pang of unfamiliar emotion. I had believed all my life that it was rare for families to have more than one child since times were so volatile but watching these six interact – the loneliness I felt back when I was in my safe haven came back.

"So where you from?" Talia lured me out question-by-question to the large common sofa area, "I'm from Switz-"

"Have you guys finally met the bee-atch that stole our room?" a voice from behind interrupted and startled me. Whipping my head to glance from over my shoulder, I jumped to my feet my heart once again racing, and my stomach doing flips, to see another young girl, her eyes a yellowish type of green, dark burgundy hair and boxes in her hands, followed by another in shorts, honey hair and scowl on her face.

Identical eyes to the girl who spoke.

"Devin!" the woman, voluptuous and features similar to Talia chided with a harsh edge to her voice, the opposite of her soft-featured face.

Kind eyes apologized.

Standing, and turning to the one called Devein, "Actually, this is Faith," the girl looked me over, giving me a tight faked smile. The two girls just nodded moving over to Harleigh and Talia's room, while the older woman came forward.

"It's a pleasure to meet you dear," she said kindly, her voice now – in my opinion – matching her features, "I'm Kalenah, the mother of your roommates," I smiled back returning hers, because there was something warm about her, not like Patricia, warmer, kinder. "Do not fall for the kindest of strangers Faith, you never know what danger lies behind a kind smile," Dmitri whispers in my head, without meaning too, I feel my expression fall and look away, peering into the other rooms.

When I noticed that they were still barely done moving I considered offering to help, before I remembered the exact reason I actually moved in a day earlier than the rest of the girls, avoidance of large bustling crowds. "I'll let you guys get back to unpacking," I murmured ready to make a mad dash to my sanctuary.

"So Faith, are you allergic to anything? Food wise I mean?" she gestured over to the kitchen, I shook my head, "Oh good, I often make meals in advanced for the children," I cocked my head to the side, "and I just wanted to make sure nothing I made would harm you in any way," I blinked.

"None of your children can cook?" the words out before I had ran them through my what comes next filter. With large wide eyes, I was ready to take it back but the woman just threw her head back laughing. "Not without my lack of trying, Talia burns water, Harleigh might lose a finger, Caterina has more of a two minute rule in stead of five seconds," that last part a bit lost on me, but when Caterina shook her head laughing while still trying to deny it I gave a small smile as well. It was meant to be funny.

"Plus they're just so busy with their studies and I like to take care of them even though they live here – we aren't too far away just a ten minute drive – depending on who is driving of course," again I nod and smile only because the tone in her voice calls for.

"So... I take it you can cook?" my practiced answers ready for this conversation, "Yes, I like too."

I glanced at the clock noting it was long past morning and encroaching mid after, the idea that I slept so long was baffling. Never truly having nightmares, they had now become a frequent event during the nights.

"I was actually, going to cook dinner – I had bought supplies... I'm sure I can make enough for everyone," I offered kindly, "you don't have to cook for us," the one introduced as Brennan said walking by catching my offer.

"However depending on what you're making, I could eat," Thaddeus finished with a pout.

"Meatloaf, greens, baked potatoes and I bought fresh lemons..." with a nod of approval the two guys left the room, Harleigh, Paige and Caterina following them leaving Talia and her mother with me. Standing I went into my room, my plan to change, freshen up, before I began, but still so use to leaving my doors open because I lived alone, on the trip back Harleigh and Talia came just to the door while I made my bed.

Seeing them, I stand, halting waiting for what they had to say.

"Can I check your records out?" Harleigh asked practically drooling, her finger and eyes on my vinyls, though I think she was asking me. My head had barely lifted in approval before she raced to the bed – make shift shelves – housing not all my records but the ones I didn't want to leave behind in my old home in the woods.

But before she could really look at my selection, Talia following her they both stopped at my record player, "Holy – what the?" Talia pointed to it her eyes wide and curious.

"This is – how did you get this?" she asked her voice reverent and I could understand her current emotion, she must love vinyl's as well and the machine, "It's the greatest – the pin... the music is excellent," I agreed with her.

"How did you afford this?" I blinked, "Oh it was a gift, my friend worked nearly four days for it," I smiled fondly, remembering when Dmitri brought it. "He worked for four days? For a VPI Classic Direct?"  I nodded, going back to making my bed as Harleigh and Talia fingered through my records until the boys stopped back, an older gentleman with them, his features similar to Brennan and Thaddeus.

"Okay so let me get this straight we're carrying your things in, and she's making dinner while you two do what? Sit and?" Thaddeus began but stopped when he noticed "No way... do it have the -1A?" Brennan stammered out walking past me and going straight to them.

"How did you get this? I mean this is like – Bob Dylan, this is I mean it's 'The Freewheelin'' with the four withdrawn songs," again he spoke with the same reverence that Harleigh had.

I nodded, I was missing something and not knowing, made me fidget and avoid eye contact, "we can listen out there," I used my chin to point out to the larger area my room feeling crowded with Harleigh, Talia, Brennan, Thaddeus and the man behind him.

Brennan nodded, but quickly, if I had blinked I think I would have missed it when Harleigh's eyes cut to my player on top of the shelf and Brennans' eyes seemed to narrow before going blank and looking at me. Going to the closest I pulled out my portable player and when they noticed what I was doing, slowly filed out of my room, setting it up I went to work on dinner while they seemed to forget that they were moving in, that or they had finished.

"You really – you have great taste in music," older Brennan came to the kitchen counter, inhaling deeply, and sitting at the counter, on the stool.

I nodded, I didn't really have great tastes but Dmitri always brought me what he found and traded work for, although, I was starting to learn that he probably wasn't trading work for what he was getting, instead he used money.

Though for the lack of not tangling myself in lies, I went with traded.

"Oh – do you need help?" Kalenah came straight to the kitchen area, when she entered the common area again. "Is Ansel talking your ear off?" my eyes flickered to the man that hadn't introduced himself.

"Oh where are my manners," he joked, sticking his hand out, "I'm Ansel Conrad, parent to this group and three more at home," biting my lip, my filter in check I just smiled.

Three more children? Really on top of these six I had met, and one that I hadn't? My traitorous brain, heavily conditioned by Dmitri fought off the shock of what I was hearing. He had made me believe that the mean age of mortality was just near thirty-two plus or minus five years. Kalenah looked a bit older than someone in her thirties, but still... if I had to use what Dmitri told me, Kalenah and Ansel would've started having kids when she was fifteen and didn't stop until she had ten...

Ansel laughed heartily as my face heated, "It's okay, we have are a large bunch, but each one of them came to us out of love," I nodded, I'm sure he was just being proper and knew perfectly well where his children came from.

"Ewh dad, stop grossing out the cook for the night," Talia came over, her face pinched.

As I turned my back working, placing the raw meat to cook, all the trimmings mixed in, and the sides cooking slowly, I wondered about something that since I had learned to the truth, that always crept up suddenly. My parents. Biological. Walsh said that nothing came when he ran my DNA, that Dmitri didn't give information on that, only saying and having the proper documents for me and one hand written birth certificate where my place of birth did not say North Carolina.

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Name: Fatima Safiya Ashlynn

Date of Birth: July 3rd 1997

Place of birth: Regaratch

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My phone started buzzing, ringing loudly to the tone I knew was set for Patricia. Still near me, Talia reached over and made a move to answer for me, pointing to speaker and a questioning look.

I didn't want to miss this chance to speak with Patricia, would not want her to think I was busy already and could not take her call. The minute the phone was answered, "Hey Patricia you're on speaker, I'm actually making dinner," I told her, hoping she would leave any information besides what I said I would be telling people out for now.

"Oh – for your roommates? Hey you guys listening – that girl is a great cook!" she gushed, "Kept Walsh and I fed," I laughed, "Hey – Fatima, we were just checking on you, but you can text us later okay? Or call if you'd like," Patricia said, and I could hear the relief she had in her voice. I knew she was worried about me blending in, or well leaving my room at all for any reason, but I guess hearing that I was making a meal eased her worries.

"Okay, thank you for calling me," I said in earnest.

When the call ended and I turned back to my tasks, from behind Kalenah spoke, "I thought you said your name was Faith?" she asked and without a glance in her direction, distracted I responded.

"It's Fatima but Dm-" I stiffened, my shoulders frozen, "I like – prefer – to be called Faith," I continued on.

"Fatima is such a beautiful name," Kalenah commented, and behind me Bob Dylan crooned softly.

"I do understand about going by other names though," I glanced over my shoulder as I chopped the parsley, "I have a small practice – only see a few patients but they like to call me Marikit – my middle name – plus I have a flower shop... I just love working with flowers and arrangements," my always-steady cooking hands shook when she said her name – Marikit. She was – is – my – the therapist Walsh had set me up with, the only person besides the principal that knew the truth about my history.

I had no words, I had no follow up comment, I couldn't even open my mouth to say that I would love to work with flowers, that I really wouldn't mind being a florist in life, I didn't have to converse with flowers, they'd never know how I was under educated in most relevant – current – things.

So instead, I tuned out the Conrads behind me, the music that was once easing my nerves and continued to make the meal in a sort of planned, do what comes next and run haze. When everything was prepared, I placed them out, reaching for one of the plates Walsh, Patricia purchased, filled a plate for myself, poured a glass of handmade strawberry lemonade and made way to eat in my room.

"You aren't going to eat with us?" Kalenah asked me, her tone soft, still kind, but I found I couldn't meet her eyes. The shame of the few lies I had already told had my stomach in knots. Shaking my head, I entered and behind me Talia came in, holding my portable record player and Bob Dylan record.

"Thanks for sharing," she smiled kindly, her mothers features, near identical right now. "It's not a problem," I said honestly. Closing and locking the door behind her, I sighed, against it sinking down to my butt, my back against the door.

My phone chimed.

Patricia: How's dinner? I'm so glad you aren't just staying hidden in your room. Text later.

Just when I was going to call her, I heard the Conrads speaking softly, "What happened? I mean she was alright then it's like – it's like she shut down on us," Talia murmured. I sat stiffly with my stomach flipping, my head beginning to hurt, and that pain going sharply down my back as I waited for Kalenah – Talia's mother – to tell the others that she was my new therapist.

"I think the call from her family probably made her sad," Ansel answered instead. Moving from my spot, I went to my desk, bringing my plate of food onto my lap, turning my TV. on and noting that I couldn't call Walsh and Patricia when anyone was here, because if I could hear their conversations out there, then they could hear mine in my own room.

Finding a movie, I rested back, eating alone, but even doing that, something I was used to brought me comfort for what was coming tomorrow; classes with the hordes of people that would be around me for the next year until I graduated and returned to my woods.

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© 2016 roxann_season All Rights Reserved

Thank you for reading and voting (if you already have), but if you haven't and this is your second time reading please do vote, it's all I ask if you enjoy Loving Ashlynn. Oh... and please share this story and the quoteART.

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