You Are Ours

Prologue Part I

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Here it is finally!
'You Are Ours'

I'm so excited to share this story because I've spent so much time writing & then going back to edit. There are so many chapters that have been edited &
rewritten so many times that I need extra hands to count. 🙈
I hope you love it & the characters I've created.

Please show the love by giving me a comment & a vote letting me know what you think.
CeeCee
xoxo
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R   Y   A   N

        SITTING in the back seat of Dad's car, looking back to make sure the moving van is still following us with all of our belongings, I wondered how far our new home would be.
What does our new house look like?
What will my room be like?
What are the neighbours like?
Will my new school be much different from the one I went to before? But most importantly...
Will I like it here?

   I didn't want to move here. I didn't want to leave my friends or my school back in London, but quite frankly, I had no choice in the matter. I was told where we were going, when we were going, that my sister and my nephew were coming with us, but I was never asked if I wanted to leave everything I knew and loved behind. That's the thing about being a kid. It's never your choice.

   At thirteen, I was too young to be making such decisions or even have a say in the matter. I was just told to pack, which I did. Get in the car, which I did. Get on the plane, which I did. No questions asked, I just... followed.
   We were all so proud of Dad when he got his new promotion he had been working so hard to get. A promotion he had been hoping for for the longest time. It meant a lot more responsibility, a lot more creativity, and waaaaay more money than he got back in England. I was happy for him. We all were, but the downfall was... we had to move to California. Sure, you'd think I'd be excited, at least, everyone else in the car was. But I was scared.

Scared of the unknown.

My older sister Victoria - although, you could never call her that to her face, is asleep next to her son Jackson, who sits in the middle of us.
   Tori is twelve years older than me, and even though we had a large age gap, we still had a close bond. She was very sisterly towards me and always took care of me, but then there were times my big sister would vanish and the mum voice came out. It annoyed me when she did that. Tori isn't my Mum and there were plenty of times she acted like it. But I still loved her no matter what, even when she was being a bossy cow sometimes.    
   I wasn't a planned pregnancy. A massive surprise for both my parents when I appeared and Tori always felt she needed to take on the role of big sister/motherly figure when Mum wasn't around.
   She had light brown hair in a pixie hairstyle, soft girly features, full lips, a small button nose, and a few freckles dotted around her face. Her eyes - that matched mine and Dad's, were green, but other than that, she looked just like our Mother. Everyone always says she is the beauty of the family. The heartbreaker they use to call her back home.

But for me?

I was the boring one.

The plain one.

The unpretty one.

My hair, a lot darker than Tori's, was an unruly mess down to my elbows, and right now, it was so wavey from the humidity as soon as we stepped off the plane. I don't know why I bothered to straighten it. Where Tori was curvy in all the right places, I wasn't at all. At my age, I should have grown in the hips and bust area, but I was still flat-chested and uncurvy. Practically a boys body. Tori told me, 'Oh, you're just a late bloomer, you'll fill out eventually,' that was last summer, and I was still waiting. I wasn't even in training bra's yet at thirteen and most of my friends were wearing them before they left primary school.