In the city, I'm the country bumpkin. In the country, I'm the city weirdo (or the filthy city dweller for some). In my family, I'm the green-loving wandering airhead. Green-loving as in someone who loves forests, NOT as in vegan. Can't live without my daily meat. Sure, fruits and vegetables are important, but so is meat. Although I'd rather have fruits over vegetables.

Anyway, I'm Anne. A young, often overenthusiastic, teen, and a certified nature lover. Let us forget about the fact that said certificate is a random drawing I made as a 6 years old kid. Currently, I am living in an old isolated village by the mountains with my uncle, aunt and grandmother (damn that hag!). I am no orphan, however. I have completely healthy and living biological parents. But I don't live with them, because of a few things that happened, but I'll get to that later.

I am not saying they are bad parents... mostly. The thing is, my mother is one of the few businesswomen I know of that did not fuck their way up the ladder, and is always busy managing several international companies that she has partial ownership of and even a few that are her own. Because of that, she is always on a plane, in a hotel, on a phone or a computer, and spends only a few days every month at home. Even then, most of the time she is reading reports and doing work stuff. Despite being a big boss-woman, and being able to put this work on others under her, she always tries to do as much as she can. I met on some occasions people working for her, and most seem to admire her for her investment in her work. Although many pity her too for her obsessive behaviour and unhealthy lifestyle. Yet, she seems not only to hang on but to also thrive. While I wish she'd spend more time with us, I'm also happy for her. And it's not like she never pays me any attention. On the contrary, she's always been supportive of me, even from half a world away. I love her.

I love my father too. He is a researcher. As a student, he was very passionate about his studies of, well, everything. Biology, geology, speleology, physics, chemistry, astronomy... Name it, he most likely studied its basics, and a bit more. But, he had to choose a specialisation when going to university. In the end, it was advanced physics that won him over. He studied and researched nuclear physics at first, working with a group of scientists to improve current nuclear technology. He managed to devise along with that team a new prototype of reactor core that would both put out more energy, while also prolonging the lifetime of the fuel. From what I understood, it wasn't enough of a difference to be something groundbreaking, but it was enough to garner the interest of multiple corporations and attract funding. And so it happened that one of the many decision-makers in the company they made an exclusive contract with was no one other than my mother. At first, it was only out of professional interest that she met him, hoping that she could get him to work directly for her. He, however, stubbornly refused, wanting to keep working on this project he had invested so much time and sweat in. My mother eventually fell for his stubborn attitude and dedication to his work and made a bold decision: that she would buy not only the department my father was working in but that she would buy the whole company under which he worked. And she did it. It was a bold statement, and she did not try to hide the reason for her actions. My father was speechless at the time, but soon he started seeing in my mother what he saw in himself in the mirror: the boulder-like stubbornness and the dedication to work that made them both thrive. And so, they dated, fell in love, got married, and eventually made me. Needless to say, buying an entire company and getting a majority in it was quite the hassle. She almost used up every penny she had put aside over the years.

Nowadays, my father works on something that I can only describe as 'something in between nuclear physics and quantum physics' although that may be a bit too oversimplified of an explanation. I also may be wrong, as I barely understood a thing when my father tried to explain. Well, explain, more like mumble 5 minutes while he was busy with a device in his lab. Speaking of his lab, that's where he spends most of his life. Actually, that's where both my parents spend their life when they are home. My father only leaves the lab for a morning run and then closes himself off in there to work. Then, he usually proceeds to fall asleep on his desk, after which he is woken up at 23:00 by a radio that also has a clock function. He says it's a clock with a radio function, but he is definitely wrong. The radio is, clearly, radio-shaped. Therefore it is, undoubtedly, a radio first. On its box, it also says Radio-Clock, so, there you go. Radio first, clock after.

Back on topic, I gave him the radio on his 41 birthday so he remains more in touch with the outside world, aside from the many conferences he goes to every year, and for him to wake up and go back to sleep, but on a proper bed. He answered this by buying a bed and putting it in the lab. My mother, in turn, answered by changing the bed to a bigger one, so she could sleep there too. Unbelievable, right? Well, I can definitely understand what's appealing about sleeping there. The walls are thicker and soundproofed, the machines and samples and stuff are secure and there is no risk of leakage, it's easy to clean, and the hum of the different devices in there can lull you into sleep pretty easily. This is why my mother likes it there too, so much that she brought in a small desk along with that bed, so she can work there while at home. The result is what many would describe as a hellhole. A large room, with machines and devices everywhere, with a big wardrobe stuck in between two lockers in which are stuffed my parents' clothes, with two desks covered in papers, pens, schemes and notes, with an overused coffee machine, a sink, a double bed, a nightstand and an adjacent room that's supposed to be a decontamination room (made in case of leakage or something) but is used as a bathroom (it had all it needed to be both, except for a toilet, which my parents did not hesitate to add). Now, that doesn't sound like that much, but it is. The room is so cramped that you have to walk sideways most of the room to get anywhere, and to get to the "bathroom" you have to squeeze through 2 other devices. Not really practical, but it's pretty unique. This is where I grew up. Of course, the house is more than just the lab. There is a big living room that goes unused most of the year, a small kitchen, an actual bathroom, a pantry and a small laundry room. The house also has another floor, with a room that became mine after I grew up, a room that was my parents' at some point before they moved to the lab, a guest room, and a very small bathroom with just a toilet, a shower and a sink that goes unused. There is also a basement that is more or less an extension of the lab. It has two entrances, one from the outside, from behind the house, and one from the lab, from under the double bed. It's really fun squeezing through. It's even funnier seeing my parents do it. They always complain about it, but they never do anything to change it. I suspect they find it amusing too. We also have a garage, but it's unused, as my mother usually has a driver take her to the airport, and my father doesn't drive.

Oh, yeah, and we also have a maid. Just to clarify, we're not exactly rich, just very well-off. Now, I know what most would say, a lab with high-tech equipment, an entire house, AND a maid? And that's not being rich? Well, no. We have money, a lot of money. But being rich is also about having assets and commodities. If we were to invest and convert that money into things, well we could buy quite a lot of things: properties, cars, real estate... But could we compare to actually rich people? No. Despite what it seems, my mother is a small player in this game. She owns only a few companies, the rest are partial ownerships in which she only has a small share and say. And out of all of those companies, only one is a big corporation. Needless to say, in that one she only has a small share, under 1%, and nearly no say. So, no, we're not filthy rich. And I'm not a spoiled brat. Ok, maybe a bit spoiled, but still, my parents made me work for it when I wanted something. So I know the value of hard and honest work.

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So, that aside, yes, we have a maid. Actually, it was me who pushed my parents in hiring her. With my mother off to business most of the time and me with my studies and obsession with nature, my father more or less starved himself to death. And the house was always dirty, full of dust, and at some point, even mould. Because I couldn't do everything myself (and because I am quite lazy when it comes to house chores) I came up with the idea. At first, they didn't really like the idea of letting a stranger work around the house, but in the end, they yielded thanks to some obnoxious and bratty kid pestering them. Also, that kid was NOT me. I was definitely not obnoxious and bratty. But, all in all, everything went well. The maid we hired is mostly what you'd expect from someone working in this job. Responsible, caring, delicate and careful. But she also has a more unique side. She is the most bad-mouthed person I have met in my entire life. I wonder if she was a British sailor in a past life. Every sentence is carefully ornated with a well-placed curse, every bad thing that happens unleashes an unending chain of swearing, and every mistake made under her eyes is followed by a monologue of profanity in which the listeners are treated with a large variation of curses, some usual, and some exquisitely unique. If she were to ever go to an originality contest about swearing, she would undoubtedly win the first place. But despite that, she means only well. Her name is Samantha, and she lives in the guest room. She does not live so far as she could not drive from home every day, but out of convenience for everyone, she lives with us. Her job is pretty simple: clean the house and cook for father. She also took it upon herself to tend to the garden, which by the time we hired her had become a small patch of overgrown wilderness surrounding our home. After that, she is free to do whatever else she wants. At first, when we hired her, after working in the morning, she left at noon for university, as she was still attending at that time. She is actually quite young, we hired her when she was 22. She was happy with the job because she could make some money while also staying closer to her university, in a more quiet part of town. Meanwhile, mother learned that she was studying management and economics, so she could not resist trying to hire her as a sort of secretary too. Now that she finished university, she works as our sort-of secretary-maid-gardener. Actually, she is a maid first and foremost, so it would be maid-secretary-gardener. In any case, I am sure everyone is happy with the developments Samantha's hiring led to.

Now that I think about it, this whole situation can easily lead to some misunderstandings and suspicions. A woman, away from her husband most of the time, travelling all over the world, meeting all kinds of men. A man, home alone, with a young maid. But, surprisingly, that does not happen. I have to admit, I was curious at some point, especially at that time when I was obsessed with web novels, and among the many I read, there were many with romance and drama. Some might have been more explicit than others, but no matter. The point is, I began to ask myself: how well do I know them? Pretty damn well it seems. I was right not to doubt them, wrong to start doing so. As to how I found out... Well, I might have used a large part of my allowance to order a dozen or so small microphones, easy to hide in bags, wallets, backpacks and so on, without the owner's knowledge. So, no, they are not cheating each other. On the contrary, I'd say they love each other so much that sometimes, even with the supposedly soundproof walls of the lab, their 'singing' still reaches my room at night. And if I wasn't sure before, what I heard over the micros while they were home was more than enough to confirm it. As for Samantha, I'm sure she has her share of fun (I am not necessarily talking about intimate stuff here). Every few nights, she likes to go out in the city. (No, this time I did not find out with technological help. I simply talked to her.) There she frequents a few bars, mostly biker/metalhead stuff. Oh, did I say she was a biker? Probably not. Well, she is. And she is also a brown belt in Karate. Despite that, she still looks like a glorified brawler when fighting. She actually trained me for a while. Not anything fancy, just enough so I could throw an assailant off, and then scram as fast as my legs can carry me. This is actually more realistic than what most would try to teach you. If you're attacked out of nowhere, you won't have time to pull out some flashy-dashy cool looking ninja techniques. Worst case, you're incapacitated before you can do anything. Statistics show that this is what happens in most cases. So, the best and most realistic response is to destabilise your assailant, preferably make him (or her, who knows) stumble and fall, so you can run away. Only if you are cornered and have no other choice you fight. And so, this is how I ended up running an entire summer, every morning, as fast as I could, with an angry maid behind me shouting all kinds of profanities and threatening to insert all kinds of utensils and furniture up my bum if she caught up with me. It was really good training, I recommend it. Does wonders to your physical shape. Also, I must mention the following: despite being very convincing, those threats to my behind were just empty threats. My bum did not suffer any physical injuries during this training. My legs did though...

And so, this is my completely normal family, and my life up until a few months ago.

However, things have changed since two things happened. For one, an economic crisis hit most of the world because of several years of bad decision-making. Politics stuff, I won't go into detail and annoy people with it. This has put my mother in a tough spot, and now she is away from home more than ever. The second thing to happen was a breakthrough. As much as I tried to understand the technical details, I couldn't, but basically all the scientific communities in the world are in an excitement beyond words. Because of this, and because of his connections, my father was asked to be part of a commission of sorts, that would go around the world to help share more detailed information between research centres. But from what I understood, it's more like going around and enforcing cooperation between scientists, as many will want to keep their progress secret in hope of getting as much credit as they can when they reveal their research during the forums and gatherings. He could not pass up this chance to know other scientists, their work and meet new possible colleagues. So, my father accepted. This, however, would take time. At least two years, he estimated. Samantha agreed to stay and take care of the house, and even of me.

But, then I got a chance I could not pass up. My uncle, father's brother, proposed to take me in for some time. To say I was thrilled was an understatement. I liked the forest on the outskirts of my hometown (well, more like hometropolis but whatever), and when I did not have the time to do the 2 hours trip there, the park was fine. But my uncle lives near an actual forest, under an actual mountain! Not just some empty woods with a few birds at most, like the ones near the cities, no, actual forest! With squirrels, birds, hawks, foxes, wolves, deer, boars, hares and so many more! Actual wilderness! I felt like an adventurer searching for gold and stumbling upon El Dorado. My parents and I mostly agree on everything. My passion for nature, however, is one of the few things in which we do not understand each other. They don't understand why one would leave the comfort of the city. I don't understand what comfort there is in a mass of people living quite literally on each other. This is why I barely ever got to go out in the wild. I managed to get my parents to send me to summer camps and ski camps several times, but those barely count. All is done in a controlled medium, with adults, and loud kids that scare away all the wilderness.

This is why, for me, this was a golden opportunity. And I took it. It took a lot of negotiating. I am still a high school student after all. I need to attend school, finish my studies etc... Luckily, the town where my uncle lives (I would find out later that said town was more like a slightly bigger village) has a pretty good high school that is attended by students from 5 different villages in the area. With this and a lot of pestering, I was able to turn the argument in my favour. I promised to keep studying extra, and send my parents emails to update them on my progress. I also promised not to cause trouble for my uncle, respect his house rules, and help around in any way I can. And in the end, they let me.

And this is how this redhead arrived to live in a corner of civilisation, almost broken off if not for a single 4G antenna on the hill, and a single road leading north towards the exit to the valley. And this is how I arrived in the place that would completely change my life. The place that would open my eyes, and show me how much of the world I live in is nought but a lie.