Rock Me

Chapter One

*No copyright intended. Any situations, dilemmas, names etc that are similar to other stories are there just by pure coincidence*

Chapter One-

Orla stepped out from the black metallic range rover she had spent more than enough time in. All the way to London from Leeds, she did nothing but stare at the cars flying past going to the city she only shortly left, they're expectations high or just plane normal, knowing what type of city they were arriving in or passing through. She loved Leeds. Well she at least loved the museum that was free of charge, the art galleries that contained such beautiful pieces and the architecture that rested on each historical building in sight. She had plans to attend Leeds University once she left high school, but her parents had other plans.  

They moved their base to London-permanently. That word she despised. That word she had heard to many times.

It only took a large rush of wind to ruin her straight brown hair that was styled into a side fringe, just covering her left eye that symmetrically sparkled blue to her right. She sighed stretching discreetly, hearing her back creak a little from the bones stretching in relief. Orla let out a yawn, as her parents slammed their car doors shut behind them and stood on either side of Orla admiring the sight of their new house they had bought or 'rented' that wasn't usually the style they went for. It was a simple house, it was white and rimmed with black giving a slight cottage affect to the building. And the windows were double glazed and polished clean with flower pots by either side of each window no matter how high or far from the ground they were. An ivy plant grew just by the top window, beautifully meandering through each ones vines into a gorgrous strip of plant that emphasised the beauty of the house. The garden was large, and was the perimeter around the whole house, the only way of entering the house was by walking along the pebbled pathway that was curved with the beautiful stones cemented within it.  

"Beautiful." Orlas dad sighed obviously impressed by the design.  

"Yeah, it is." Orla agreed slightly smirking, but mentally arguing with herself. She couldn't get attached, why should she if she's only going to be leaving in the next six months? What was the point?

Her parents retrieved the bags they brought down with them from Leeds, as all their other wanted furniture as such were already within the household. Orla took the keys from her Mother, and walked along the pebbled pathway with her brown felted satchel over her shoulder, and a few thick strands of her waist length silk hair stuck under the strap she decided to ignore. Hesitantly, Orla placed the key into the lock, and turned it all the way to the left and hearing the locks turn and twist until the handle successfully opened. She swung the door open gently, stepping in along with the thick vital door and instantly smelling the 'new house smell' she had gotten used to. Although she recognised pieces of furniture in her surroundings, it was still bare to her. There was so much still missing, so much she would of preferred to of kept in their rightful places to which she had arranged herself, but had no say in what's so ever.

There were a pair of stairs straight to her right, placed with a cream carpet over the top of the floorboards with a white banister carefully placed with white pillars under it that supported it to stand. Straight down the hallway, the kitchen was on show. She could only see a small amount, maybe just a few cupboards and a few pots and pans but already she could tell it was exceptionally large.

Without fuss, she jogged up the stairs hearing her parents talk about the future plans in London. About routines she and themselves would have to get used to, to what Orla expected wouldn't be for very long.  Orla hated talking about plans, she never had a say in what they ever did, they never asked her of what she thought of it all. All she wanted was some responsibility and the great amount of respect she gave her own parents.  She always had to do as she was told. Orla was a basic goody-too-shoes, always favoured by teachers, always loved by adults and always welcomed into the elderly atmosphere with no hesitation of tea and biscuits. And even though no one gave her the chance, she was a perfect friend. 

The stairs led her to a large landing, nicely spread out with the same cream carpet that continued through the rooms around her. From what she could make out from the quick glances into the three rooms perfectly in line that contained either a bathroom, bedroom, and office, her room was the last one on the landing. She entered, realising it was the room facing out into the street outside, giving her a small glimpse of London buildings. 

To say they were in a modern area, the streets were pretty deserted. But maybe that was a good thing. It meant less people for her to become attached to if her parents decided to get up and move again.

She walked halfway through the doorway, taking in her surroundings and feeling like she was in her main home no matter what the rest out of the building was set out to be. Her personal home was her room. As long as her belongings were there, she felt comfortable. Despite the obvious different room size, everything she could see were in their usual places. Orla breathed a sigh of relief, dropping her bag, she ran to her bed and jumped into her favourite sheets and sinking into the mattress, feeling the sudden comfort take over her body and drown her in drowsiness. She was happy that at least for a few months, she could settle down and maybe relax, maybe gain some friends. That was only if no options occurred to her parents' plans.

All Orla could do was go with it. She was in sixth form, in a large high school a few blocks away that apparently was one of the best. That's why her parents were sending her there, so their precious daughter could be 'the best'. 

Little did they know that would be the day her daughters life would change.