The Angel Chronicals: The Unordinary

Chapter 1

1

Victoria

“Beep, beep, beep, beep” My alarm clock goes off, it’s the most dreadful sound in the world to me right now. Not because I don’t like mornings, I actually love them it’s because I have to get up and put my bags in a taxi, board a plane, to move halfway across the world, to someplace called Wichita, Kansas. I did some research on it, it’s not the best. The school I’ll be going to is Wichita south high school. The schooling there is so much different there, than in London. The school is a huge brick building with a big sign with the school name on it. If it we’re up to me I’d stay here while my family moved away. I don’t want to change schools much less move to a different country. The school I go to now is a private girl’s school. I decide that I really need to get up and get in the shower instead of sulking in my bed. I get up to go get in my shower one last time. I walk past my brother’s room, he’s on the phone. He’s probably trying to find a high before we leave. I go to the bathroom and look in the mirror, my blonde hair is all knotted and my blue eyes are clouded with sleep, my skinny pale face is blotched red, and there’s and imprint of how I slept on my bed.  I sigh and started stripping off my red tank top and black shorts that I wear to bed. I get in the shower without turning on the water yet, I look around the bathroom and close the curtain, when I turn on the water, it  feels nice on my skin, I stand under it for a while not doing anything. I start washing my hair when I hear someone come in.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing? Can’t you tell I’m in the shower,” I demand while looking out the shower curtain. I see it’s my mom, hanging over the toilet, puking.

“Oh sorry mom,” I say and continue to wash my hair.

“mmmm,” she mutters

By the time I’m washing my body my mom is still in the bathroom, probably trying to make herself look not hungover, she’s got to keep up her perfect image, of blond hair and blue eyes, I get my looks from my mom. That’s the only thing we have in common. Before she started drinking she was extremely beautiful. She’s tall and skinny like me. When I was little she used to tell me stories of when she grew up in France how all of the boy’s wanted her. Then she met my dad, she says it was love at first site, she ran away to London with him, because that’s where he lived. He was wealthy compared to my mom.When I’m done I hop out to see my mom leaning over the toilet again. I rap a towel around me and I sigh and pull up her unnaturally curly hair so she doesn’t puke on it.

“Thanks,” she mumbles before she’s done, and then leaves.

I go to my room to get dressed. I have my clothes set out so I don’t have to dig out some. Once I’m done getting dressed I brush my hair and look around my room. Well I guess it’s not my room anymore.

“Victoria, taxis here,” my dad yells up the steps to me.

‘Coming,” I say looking around to make sure everything’s packed.

I come down the stairs with a “thump thump thump,” of my suitcase on the steps. These are the steps I used to slide down when I was little. I’m going to miss this house. Not because of the family memories, there aren’t many of them anymore, but the ones I made by myself. When I get down the steps everyone else is shoving there stuff into the taxi.

“Come on, hurry up we’ll be late,” Jeydon says.

“Since when do you want to leave?” I ask.

“Since now,” he says grabbing my bag and putting it in the trunk.

I get in the taxi next to my mom who reeks of vomit and expensive perfume. The taxi smells of after shave and crisp leather, but masking all of that is some sort of horrible smell, it smells like someone has been living out of the taxi. Which the taxi driver probably has. Or it smells like someone dumped a months’ worth of trash in the cab. As I try to ignore the horrible smell, I look out the window at the for sale sign, and on top of the sign is a sold sign. Some new rich family is going to take away my house, probably change all the things I like about it. Like the yellow paint in the kitchen, or the red carpet floor in my room. I’m still dreaming about my old house when it goes out of site. A single tear falls down my face. I just realized Jeydon is sitting next to me smiling like an idiot. He’s happy we’re leaving, I don’t see how though. He’s probably happy because half the girls he talks to are mad at him, because he was cheating with all of them. I sit in the taxi thinking about what our new house will be like. It probably won’t be as beautiful as our old one. I also think how much it’s going to be different in America, they have a different government, they drive on the opposite side of the road, and they use different measurements. Adjusting to a life in America is going to be hard.

“So where are of you people going today,” the taxi driver says, trying to make conversation.

It’s my dad who answers, “We’re off to the airport.”

“Why is that?” The cab driver asks.

This time it’s my mom who answers,” we’re moving to America, because of some problems,” While glaring at my father.

“Wait aren’t you the Ainsworth family, don’t you a big company here? How are you going to run it from America?” He says aiming the questions at my dad.

That’s how it always is, the rest of the family gets ignored, because my dad is a well know person. At least locally.

“Yes we are the Ainsworth’s, Yes I own a big company, and I plan on coming here once every few months to check up on things.”

Well that’s news to me, I didn’t know any of this I thought we we’re all staying there. What’s the point of moving if my dad can go back? He can just go visit all the people he sleeps, without worrying about mom. This so stupid.

The rest of the cab ride is my dad and mom, talking to the cab driver, about random things. While me and Jeydon are ignored. I’m used to it but the look on Jeydon’s face he doesn’t like it.

In a little we end up at the airport.

“Alright you chaps have a nice day,” The cabbie yells as he’s driving.

“What a low life he is,” my dad says. This angers me.

“Well for him being a low life you sure we’re talking to him an awful lot,” I say through anger.

“Yes because I was being polite, now if you don’t stop talking like that you’ll be grounded as soon as we get to our new home,”

“Oh like you care about being polite, And I don’t care about being grounded it’s not like I’ll have anything to do there!” I yell.

“Victoria, you’re making a scene,” my mom whispers to me.

“Oh come on like you don’t want to go out with a bang!” I yell again.

“That’s it you’re grounded, why do always have to make a big deal out of everything? My father half yells, half asks.

“Come on we have to go,” my brother says pulling out his phone to check the time.

We all run to the loading station because we are going to be late for our plane.