Chapter 1
Violet Fanny Pearson was the name of the girl who was born in Washington D.C. on August 7, 1990.
She owed her name to the violet twilight of the evening when her mother learned of her pregnancy. Her mother had insisted that the middle name has to be 'Fanny' because her grandmother, whose real name was Francis, was always called that during her lifetime.
Violet grew up in Georgetown, Washington D.C., in one of the townhouses.
Her mother Charlotte was until her birth, secretary in a highly prestigious company. Frank - her father was a senator. Despite the lack of time due to his profession, Frank always tried to be a good father and spend as much time as possible with his daughter and his wife.
Violet had a well-protected, almost fairy-tale like childhood. Her parents were always very eager to encourage and support her in all her interests.
Even as a small child she was cheeky and made it clear to everyone what she thought and what she wanted. She was a real bundle of energy, so it came to the point that her parents decided that Violet should pursue a hobby that would benefit her physically.
After some failures like horseback riding, ballet, tennis and field hockey, they finally found something that Violet liked and that would help her physically so that her energy was tamed.
At the age of 7 she started her new hobby - kickboxing. It became her passion and every free minute she spent training, she even participated in some competitions and won several times.
Years passed by and little Violet became a teenager.
The once doll-like girl grew into a strong young woman.
Her dark brown almond-shaped eyes looked almost as if they were black, only on closer inspection could one see the demarcation between the iris and the pupil. Her brown hair ended under her chin, just long enough for her to tie it in a braid. She was slim and her muscles defined by training, with her height of 170cm she towered over most of the boys in her class at that age. Because her nose had already been broken once, she had a small bump decorating the bridge of her nose, not disturbing at all, the nose was still feminine.
Her parents were proud that they made such a strong personality out of Violet and in their eyes she was the most beautiful girl in the world.
Violet always had a good relationship with her parents and her mother was like her best friend to whom she told everything.
All her life, luck had been on her side, she had always achieved what she wanted and above all she lived together with her parents who had an intact and loving marriage.
Bad things happened in her eyes all over the world, but not in her life.
Until that one day in 2005.
The day had started like any other. It was Monday morning and Violet was getting ready for school. As usual, she was a little late, which was also the reason why she didn't have time to have breakfast with her parents. She just ran to the kitchen, grabbed her packed lunch and stuffed it into her backpack. Before she left the house she kissed both her parents on the cheek and ran outside to catch the school bus.
In the afternoon, during the first lesson after her lunch break, the class was interrupted because her teacher Mrs. Fink was called out of the room.
Mrs. Fink, unlike so many other teachers at her school, was a very friendly teacher who was concerned about the welfare of her students.
After a few minutes, the teacher came back into the classroom. Something had changed, Mrs. Fink was known for always having a smile on her lips, but now she looked glum, as if she was carrying a hundred kilos on her shoulders.
She put her circular glasses, which she had just cleaned with a corner of her T-shirt, on her nose. Her gaze roamed the class and lingered on Violet.
"Ms. Pearson? Please come with me and take yout backpack with you, please."
Violet didn't know what her teacher wanted her to do, and in her mind were replaying all the things she had done lately. She couldn't make any sense of what Mrs. Fink might have come up with, but she was counting on the fact that she was in for a huge punishment.
Violet packed her things into her backpack, slung it over her shoulder and left the classroom with the teacher.
The heels of Mrs. Fink's shoes clacked on the floor, and Violet was sure the sound could be heard a few hallways away.
"Please sit down." Mrs. Fink pointed to one of the chairs in the room they had just entered before.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Fink, I know it's forbidden but my friends and I were just having fun and not thinking when we sprayed the wall." Violet sat a little tense in her chair, nevrishly playing with the ring that adorned her finger.
"Ms. Pearson. It isn't. I don't even know how to begin. Today at 1 p.m. there was an attack on the restaurant where some senators were having lunch with their escorts, there are countless dead and I'm afraid your parents are among them."
Violet immediately stopped playing with her ring and paused in her position. Like an echo, the last words repeated themselves over and over in her head.
Her parents were supposed to be dead?
Her parents whom she had seen sitting at the breakfast table just a few hours ago?
Mrs. Fink continued to talk to Violet but the words didn't reach her, the shock of the news was too great. She only saw her teacher leave the room for a moment, probably crisis intervention staff would come to talk to her.
She was only 15 years old, which would mean that she would be placed in foster care, or worse, with her father's mother.
Her paternal grandmother was a horror. She was old-fashioned, conservative, strict and contained no kindness - she was a narcissist through and through.
She had never liked her granddaughter Violet, anzway; because a girl was worth less in her eyes.
All of this, this situation, these thoughts - it was too much for Violet, she had to get out of here.
Without another moment's thought, she grabbed her backpack, jumped up and ran out of the school building. The whole way home she didn't even turn around, it was almost as if she had blinders on.
Her lungs were burning and she was sure they were about to crawl up her throat.
When she arrived at her parents' house, she frantically searched for her keys, which were hidden somewhere in her backpack.
"Fuck, where is that fucking key?" She searched frantically until she simply emptied the contents of her backpack on the stairstep.
Once she had opened the door and gathered her belongings back together, she literally stormed the house.
She called out her parents' names, but her cries went unanswered.
On the calendar attached to refrigerator, she saw the note for today - 12:30 lunch at Lorenzo's.
She could not believe that this morning would be the last time she would've see her parents.
In her, besides her bewilderment and sadness, anger was spreading. On the way to her room on the upper floor she emptied every sideboard of every chest of drawers with a swing.
The clinking of glass that shattered and fell to the floor, filled the oh so silent house.
Arriving in her room, she took a travel bag out of her closet and stuffed it full of her things - clothes, toiletries, a blanket, shoes.
In the bathroom she briefly looked at herself in the mirror, her mascara spread all over her face thanks to her tears.
After packing everything up, she let herself fall on the floor, silent.
She lay in the middle of the mess she had made and felt empty. It was almost as if she had turned off her emotions as self-protection. Not a single thought wandered through her head, no more pain ran through her body, she was only the shell of herself.
She didn't know how long she had been lying there like that when a knock on the front door woke her up from her trance-like state.
She looked through the window into her bedroom, from which she had a perfect view of the entrance, and recognized two policemen waiting impatiently for someone to open the door.
She knew that Mrs. Fink had called the police after her disappearance and that they were here to take her away.
Violet didn't want to, she didn't want to be confronted with this, she didn't want to go to the home or worse, to her grandmother.
Panic-stricken, she looked around as her gaze lingered on the bathroom window.
From the bathroom, there was a fire escape that led to the back of the house. Without thinking, she threw her travel bag over her shoulder, grabbed what she had saved from her piggy bank, and climbed out the window.
Where her escape would take her, she was not aware of that at the moment.
