(Chapter -1) I Am Pretty Sure Stories Don't Start Like This

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~Camerica’s sick, sick POV

“Hello hot-stuff. My name is Single Ladies, otherwise known as Camerica. You can call me Baby, baby.” I flirted with my computer screen. The picture of Misha Collins was slowly winking back at me.

“What in gods name...” Rachel said as I leaned in for a kiss with my computer. I missed and fell onto the floor, only to be shot into another POV.

~R.A.C.H.E.L.S POV~

“Hey! You just started the story with your POV, you can’t just dump it on me, that's so unoriginal!” I yelled, grabbing Camerica by the hair and throwing her across the room with the pure strength of a thousand oxen. “Fix this.”

“Ouch! My stomach lining! For how art thou thy peasant?” Single Ladies yelled as she forced me to give up all of my money for gambling and merch.

“Camerica, this is ridiculous. Can we start the story out normally? Like other novels?” I yelled, my hormones showing through my pale complexion and acne filled braces. I wheezed in for the amount of energy that took was sickening.

“No, and refer to me as Single Ladies, peasant.” Single Ladies commanded, shoving her bony finger into my personal bubble.

I rolled my eyes. “We have to go to school in like an hour. Please get your butt off the computer and get ready!”

“You know what. I don’t like school, but I think I am going to go anyway.” She grunted before fixing her frizzy hair in the mirror.

“Okay.” I said, leaving the moldy room behind me as I turned on my heel and raced out the open window into another room.

I opened my door and sat on the bed. I could already tell this story was getting out of hand, but how to fix a story with no plot and/or walls of perspective? All I could do at the moment was go to school and learn things.

I sighed, picking up my knapsack and swinging it on to my back, heading for the kitchen. Waltzing up to the fridge, I opened and there found another POV. “Really.”

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