FicWad

Elysia swung her legs out and back, sitting in an uncomfortable chair in a dusty office. Today was the "end of her worries", as all the adults told her, but she knew better. In her short life-span of twelve years, Elysia had learned a lot about the damned foster care system. She knew that she would be sent to this house and shipped out again in at least five months. That was her record: five months in one home. And that was only because she was grounded for all five months.
Being grounded wasn't that bad for her, though. She stopped going to school when she was ten, so she knew the basics, but she wasn't a genius. When she was grounded for five months, she merely found a pencil in the corners of her room and wrote on the walls. No one came to check on her, only shoved food in through the door, so she wrote and wrote.
Of course, when her sentence was over, the high-strung "mom" walked in and almost had a seizure to see her walls covered with untidy writing, which Elysia was illustrating, after finishing the story a week before. That was the end of that foster home. Elysia would have pleaded to get out, anyway. She had been grounded the day after moving in for touching one of "Mom's" apparently priceless things wrong.
Yep, that was two foster homes ago. Elysia had lost count of how many she's been to, but really, what does it matter when you'll be adding three more every week?
She wasn't a bad kid; she was quiet and some people thought that meant rude. When she did talk, she didn't expose much of herself, and when she did she was often witty and clever, which meant she was classified as stuck-up, or mean. She didn't bother telling anybody anything; telling leads to hearing, and hearing leads to knowing, and knowing leads to getting attached.
But maybe, Elysia's imagination told her; just maybe, this house could be the one that stays.
A middle-aged guy walked into the office, chatting pleasantly with the receptionist. He was tall, with shaggish blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He doesn't look too bad, Elysia thought. He must be here for that five-year old down the hall. He's just been married, and he and his wife thought they'd by-pass all the annoying baby years and instead take care of a five-year old. How stupid; five-year old's are pains in the asses. She twined a lock of light brown hair between her fingers, looking the picture of obvious boredom with green eyes staring at the ceiling.
The receptionist left to go find someone; probably the five-year old's agent. The guy talking to her turned around from the desk and--Dammit!--sat down next to Elysia.
"Hey," he offered, holding out his hand. Elysia hesitated before taking it and shaking it briskly.
"Hi."
"My name's William, what's yours?"
"...Elysia..." This guy was much too nice for his own good.
"Hello, Elysia."
"What are you in here for?" She asked, curiousity overcoming her.
"I'm here to pick up a kid, of course. Surely you guessed that." He raised his eyebrow at her.
"Well, yeah, but what type of kid?" Elysia recoiled. He was more clever then her? Not good; she must be slipping.
"A girl, hopefully, although my wife and I aren't picky. We've been married for a year, see." Damn, I was wrong about that, although he could still want a five-year old.
"What age?" Elysia asked before she could stop herself, even though she was going to end the conversation right then.
"Eleven, twelve." William looked at her with his clear blue eyes. "You're..."
Thinking about lying, Elysia's mouth refused. "I'm twelve." She looked back at the ceiling. This guy was really too nice.
"Hm," He nodded, looking as the receptionist entered the room again with Elysia's agent.
"I see you've already met her!" The receptionist smiled. Elysia's mouth hung open.
"Yep!" William smiled as well. "Do you have the paperwork?"

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I've got big plans for this story, so bear with me.
Yes, alchemy is involved, but it's late-coming. And I'm shocked, I managed to start a multi-chapter fiction! Hopefully I can stick with it instead of leaving it in the middle. u.u
Review please!