A Twist of Fate (1D series - Book one)

A ЂώζЅŧ of Fate ♪ Prologue

He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire. ~Sir Winston Churchill (1874 – 1965)

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A ЂώζЅŧ of Fate ♪ Prologue *EDITED*

'MOM!!! Have you seen my phone?!' I practically screamed the roof down for my mom as I ravaged through the stacks of papers on my desk and searched through the pile of clothes on the bed.

I let out a massive sigh of frustration as I stomped into the bathroom for the tenth time that morning in search of my missing phone.

Damn! At this rate, I would be late for school if I did not, like, step out of this house within one minute to catch the eight o’clock bus. The bus was never late. And I meant, never. I'd been here for three years during which time the bus was as faithful as can be to the clock. It didn’t matter if I was one minute late or ten seconds late. It would be gone -– leaving behind remnants of black smoke and gas.

Quick pattering footsteps came running and I saw a pretty dainty head popping in through the doorway.

'What happened, sweetie?' said a small built woman with short black bobbed hair and a tiny frame. She was dressed in her usual pink apron and holding a huge fork in one hand. If it were not for the thin lines of wrinkles around her eyes, it would be impossible to guess her age. She looked more like my sister than my mom.

'Have you seen my phone?' I ruffled my hair furiously, realising I would have to brush it all over again.

'Your phone?' She sounded more puzzled than I did. 'Don’t you always use it as your alarm clock every morning?'

'I did! But it’s gone again. And I’m going to be late for school if I don’t find that damn thing soon…' Irritation filled my entire body as I trembled in anger.

My mom only made matters worse by laughing, but then she added 'Why don’t you try calling your phone? Is it on silent mode?'

I smacked my head. Why didn’t I think of that! How stupid of me.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she offered it to me, and I immediately punched the buttons.

Boom.

O For-tu-na

Boom

Vel-ut-Lu-na

The familiar opening song of Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana rang out loud and clear. I tracked it down with my ears.

I fell in love with this song the very first time I played it with my timpani parts with my school band. I was so proud to be the heart beat of the band that I literally grew an ego overnight.