Chapter 1: How It All Started

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My life was not the best. I did not have the best family nor did i have luck on my side when it came down to getting out of sticky situations. I did not make the right choices and admitting mistakes? Forget it. But there were mistakes......lots of them, and becoming a member of the clique was the biggest one of all.
Which is where my story starts.

16 Years Ago


"Summer! Come on, get up! First day of school!" yelled mum from the kitchen. I sat up groggily in bed and turned off my alarm clock which was going off faster than a nuclear bomb. Sunlight infiltrated the room through the space between my curtains casting a ribbon of gold on the opposite wall. The melodious singing of birds drafted through my window seranading me. It seemed a glorious day but to me, it was the most miserable day of my life.

Today is September 1st, 2000. It marks the start of the new semester and my first day at my new school - Wiltshire School of Fine Arts. It's this prestigious boarding school for the rich and famous. Blah Blah Blah. The only reason I'm attending Wiltshire School of Fine Arts is because apparently my father who is a complete "success" at parenting and who also happens to be the CEO of the World Bank, had to shift location. So owing to the fact that his job is way more important than my social life, we had to move to Wiltshire, England.

So now I'm going to have to complete the other five years of my high school education in a completely new school. And here's the added bonus - I'll be the new girl. That's right! I'll be about as new as the first years except that I'll be in the third year. In a class where everyone's sorted into their own little groups with their own little friends. Great. Just great. And judging by the way things run in these types of schools, adjusting to a class that's been together for two years and having that class accept you, is about as easy as counting the strands of hair on your head.

"SUMMER LILLY VINCE!!! Are you coming down to breakfast or not? Your toast's getting cold and I honestly haven't got all day. I've got a meeting with the mayor in a hour's time and I've yet to drop you at the station. Besides I expect your father will be arriving soon. Hurry up, will you?" my mother exclaimed, snapping me out of my thoughts. My darling mother, the esteemed, Mrs. Meredith Vince - quite a pain on Monday mornings or any other morning for that matter.

I got off the bed and started my daily routine; keeping in mind all along to get dressed as quickly as was physically possible for a fourteen year old girl with the framework of an ant.

Perhaps it had something to do with DNA or my family's genes decided to suddenly skip a generation for no apparent reason ( and by "generation" I mean me). You see, I bear absoluteluly no resemblance to either of my parents. My mother is thin and blonde in contrast to my father who is a big, beefy man with a large moustache and hardly any neck at all. I, on the other hand, am very skinny and small for my age with thin arms and legs. I have jet black, choppy hair and my eyes - well my eyes are probably the only thing I like about my appearance. They're fierce and blue. Electric Blue.

My parents don't care about me nor do they love me. In their opinion, I'm a disappointment. In the first place, my father wanted a son to suceed him as CEO of the World Bank. He despised the idea of ever having a daughter. He will not say it but his mind is full of contempt for me. My mother, however, wanted a child who would grow to become sociable, dignified and sophisticated, not a klutz like me. They wanted a genius which, I, unfortunately, am not. So most times I go unoticed like an old piece of furniture. If I so much as get a glance on mornings, I consider myself to be fortunate. However, this only happens once a year. On my birthday. They give me luxury no doubt, but love, appreciation and acknowledgement, never come my way.

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