• Moving from one county to the other is probably the most difficult thing to do. Currency is something Kylie had yet to understand. She didn't understand it what so ever. For her day time was the evening over here in this city of New York. The schooling, driving and the language was the most different. Half of the words she couldn't understand what they were. London her home town she had to leave. Losing family struck her to move in with her older brother James. Leaving the precious London of her youth; to see if she could have a fresh start. Friendships and Relationships would actually be different yet familar at the same time. Looking at all these skyscrapers she didn't know what to think of them.They're naturally large for building. Having to go to the University with all these rude profane mouthed people was probably going to make Kylie upset. Most people wouldn't understand what she'd been through all these years; if they did they tend to ignore the past. Kylie on the other hand couldn't let the past go. Her parents being murdered in her home, right in front of her eyes. Anyone who has been through the same thing as Kylie has would understand how she felt.
    The next morning:
    Walking into the classroom it had about fifty other students; Much larger then the classes in London. Kylie had a white flece jacket that was plaid, blue jeans and her messenger bag. All of this showed her lack of fashion. She is the type of girl that throws on a t-shirt and jeans. Although she has her quirks of random girly spasms. Her grey optics lingered on a man. Looked around the age of twenty. Thoughts imediatly went back to Phillip; the man that broke her heart. A small tear escaped from her eyes. Sitting down behind this man she watched the teacher lecture on the English assignment. Kylies eyes examined the man though. Before returning to the professor.


    Kylies eyes moved along with the professor. At one moment though she had no idea what he meant. "Professor Stevens" Her accent is thick and probably shocked the whole class. "Yes Miss. Foster" Steven replied. Kylie looked at him. "Will this class help me understand what English actually is? I'm confused, half of the subjects you've told the class I have never done before." This time her voice sounded higher, but not much. "Miss Foster this class is English, this was a requirment to graduate from high school." Kylies eyes looked at him. "Professor Stevens, are you not aware of the fact I'm not from America. I do not understand half of the words or phrases you are talking about. I'll be quiet now; Just bewarned if I don't know anything in this classroom" She replied sighing gently. Professor Stevens just looked at the girl with amazment. Not one student has gotten into an argument with him in twenty years. "Miss Foster, are you the decendant of Jacklyn Foster?" Hearing her mothers name Kylie sat there and started crying slightly. "Don't speak of my mum please" Kylie said before getting up and moving down from the seat she was sitting in. She turned her face to look at the classroom one more time before landing on that one male she had been staring at all morning. His eyes were looking straight at her face, all of which had tears streaming down it. Before she could even think of what to say or do she walked out of the classroom and sat down in a corner by the door. Tears seemed to stream down her face and little tiny sobbs came from her unopened mouth. Sitting there she lost all feelings of hope, along with courage. All she wanted to do was go back to her flat and sleep. Sleeping brought back the memories of the murder; It just got her well rested along with it brought up her courage. Kylie just stayed there emotional and seeing flashbacks of the murder once more.