*I don't own Transformers or anything affiliated with Transformers. I only own my original characters and plots. All rights go to Michael Bay and Steven Spielberg.*

It was now the middle of May. For three months I had been on the run. Nothing about running excited me, especially when I knew that my only reason for running was to protect myself from whatever was after me. I had either been staying inside hotels or when the warm weather rolled in, I had wound up sleeping in alleyways, but as soon as that feeling came back I had to take off again.

As these few months had progressed, so had this strange ability of mine. Day by day it grew stronger and stronger, and I grew more frightened. There was no way I was supposed to know how to control this and I couldn't. I was alone and I had no one to help me with this. I had about an ounce of control over whatever this was and even so, it wasn't enough. I hated this so much; all I wanted was to be rid of this "ability." I was a freak, a monster. In the past three months alone, due to excess amounts of fear for my survival, I've managed to put at least seven innocent people in the hospital all because of it, and three of those people included children.

Aside from this dilemma, these past few months had been exceptionally hectic. After finding my precious family inside my home, I fled immediately, but I assumed that my neighbors had found them and called the cops. Two days had passed and I was residing in a Holiday Inn at some random city about twenty miles from my hometown. The news that night was nothing but talk about my family and, of course, me.

In a matter of days, I had transitioned from a missing person to a person of interest in the murders of my family. I didn't understand how though. Anyone who knew me knew how much I loved and cared for my family. There was no possible way I could ever do something like that to them; it's been three months since they've been gone and I was still trying to get through this entire mess.

That night though, after finding out that I was now a suspect, I did whatever I could possibly do to hide anything that could reveal my identity. I went out that night and bought two boxes of dark brown hair dye to get rid of my dirty blonde locks that I acquired from my mother. There wasn't much I could do about my bright blue eyes though. I could get contacts, but I felt that they would be way too much of a hassle. Also, I took it upon myself to slightly change my name. I would now refer to myself as Bree Morgan, which had been my dad's nickname for me when I was just seven years old. He hadn't called me that since then, so I thought it was perfect.

But either way, I was now being hunted by federal authorities and the enemy that viciously slaughtered my family. And that was the only upside to this retched curse that was bestowed upon me that day back in February. Had I not even bothered to watch the news, the odds of me still knowing that I was being hunted was impeccably great; I could sense any kind of danger around me. Just by looking at someone, I knew whether or not they could be a potential threat or whether they were harmless or not.

Nevertheless, if the government or whoever else was after me finally got a hold of me, I would be forced to unleash my ability on them in an attempt to protect myself. Once they figured out how to restrain me, they wouldn't kill me or try me for the murder of my family. Instead, they would run tests on me to see if they could determine as to why I was such a freak. I couldn't let that happen though. I was not some science fair project they could just experiment with. Yeah, I might be a freak, but either way I was still human and no human deserved to go through that. It had become my main reason for running away, aside from the need to keep myself alive.

But, sadly, all of this running had forced me miles and miles away from my precious home which was located in North Carolina; Asheville if I remember correctly. I had no recollection of what city or state I was in; I was too busy trying to hide myself to figure it out. The only thing I was aware of was that it grew gradually warmer the farther I got, so I just assumed I was heading south, or maybe even west. Like I said, I had no clue.

At the moment, I was sitting on my hotel bed with my knees hugged to my chest as I watched the evening news. Normally, I sat in the dark, but the sight of my face on the TV screen kind of delayed it. Nothing had changed about the search for me really. I was still "missing," and I was still a person of interest, but now the reward they had been offering for the past couple of months was now $100,000 instead of the previous $50,000. It was ridiculous how much the government would pay whoever had any information on my whereabouts or whoever could capture me and turn me in. Everything about this entire ordeal stressed me out, and honestly, that wasn't exactly a good thing.

With a sigh, I quickly switched the cheap television off and pulled my hood up over my head. The curtains had already been closed, but I realized that I had forgotten to cut the light off. Slowly, I raised my hand towards the lamps that were hanging on either side of the television. With just a single twitch of my fingers, the bulbs within the light fixtures burst, the loud cracking sounds echoing throughout the small room. With the room finally dark, I squeezed my eyes shut and hugged my knees closer to my chest.

Never in my life had I felt so alone. The pain of missing my family grew day by day, literally consuming me inside a cloud of never ending darkness. Sometimes I could close my eyes and pretend that I was okay, but I wasn't fooling anybody but myself. I would give anything to have my life back; I didn't feel that I deserved to have this happen to me, but then again, maybe I did. I was a monstrosity after all.

It felt as if I were going crazy. I had no one to talk to; my shadow was the only friend that I had. As lame as it sounded, it was one-hundred percent true. There was nothing for me to look forward to anymore. .except death. I definitely was not the suicidal type of girl, but when a person has been through what I have just in a matter of three months, you would do absolutely anything just to feel that little bit of peace you've been longing for. There was absolutely no chance that I would ever actually try to kill myself. My family wouldn't want that for me, but that still didn't mean that I couldn't wish for death itself. It just so happened to be taking its precious time getting to me.

That ever-so-familiar feeling inside my body returned, and I stiffened. I had felt nothing for the past three days and I hoped that whoever this enemy was had finally given up on pursuing me, but apparently I was wrong about that. Since I had destroyed the only lights I had in my room, I quickly threw my curtains open before jumping out of bed and heading over to my duffle bag. I grabbed the remnants of my belongings and tossed them into the bag. After taking a one hundred dollar bill out of my wallet, I laid it down on the bedside table and ran out of my hotel door. Thankfully, my room was on the first floor, so the back exit came into view as soon as I stepped out into the hallway. I pushed my way through the door and out into the warm spring air.

Nobody understood how sick and tired I was of running, especially when I had no earthly clue what exactly it was that I was running from. I knew that I was running from the cops, but that was all. The only other thing I knew was that I was running from my family's murderer or murderers. It was quite frustrating if you asked me, but I knew that sooner or later I would have to eventually face whatever it was. I just hoped it would be later.

I walked for a couple of blocks until coming to a bus station. With a smile of relief, I walked inside, the cool air from the air conditioner gently blowing in my face. The man at the desk greeted me with a smile, something of which I returned. Thankfully, there was no one else waiting in line so I walked up to the desk and placed my hands down, looking up at the destination board before looking back at the man.

"I have a question," I started.

"Okay, shoot."

I glanced up at the board again and sighed. "Where exactly am I right now? Like, what city am I in?" I asked the man.

He chuckled. "Oklahoma City, ma'am."

I frowned at his answer. So, instead of going south, I was going west. I wasn't upset about it at all though. If I had went any farther south, I probably would have wound up in the ocean and I definitely didn't want that. But, also, Oklahoma was quite a ways from home and it actually pained me to think about it.

"Well, what's the fastest bus route I can take right now?" I inquired.

He typed away on his little computer before turning back to me. "Here to Dallas. It's a little over six hours," he answered politely.

I pulled out my wallet. "How much for a ticket?"

"A dollar," he smiled.

I gaped at him, but didn't complain. Instead, I took out a one dollar bill and handed it to him. He took it before typing on his computer. Before I knew it, he was handing me my bus ticket. I removed it from his hand and smiled at him.

"Thank you so much."

"Don't sweat it. The bus should be waiting outside. It is about time for its departure, so I'd hurry if I were you," he chuckled.

I nodded and thanked him again before running back out the station doors. Just as the clerk had said, the bus was right there in front of the building picking up its passengers. I quickly walked over to get in line, following closely behind the many boarding the commercial vehicle. Once I was on, I walked all the way to the rear end of the bus to find a seat. Like normally, I sat alone, and soon enough, the bus was rolling away from the station, off to its next destination. I just sat back in my seat, not ready for this six hour drive.