My Fiction Fix #01

Writing Idea #47: The Switch ❤️

CHAPTER 1

I saw my first dead body at the age of thirteen.

Bet you didn't think that was how this life of mine started. Maybe that I had a loving family, a bad boy boyfriend with a prickly past and a wonder death-mobile with popularity and status high on the spectrum. Or that I was a cheerleader with a hot-jock lover that would soon become a loving husband. Far from it. I prowled through high school with the roughest lifestyle. Worked as a detective, specifically majored in computer mechanics and have worked at the same agency in London since I was sixteen.

"How did you get the job anyway?" Lillian Denver. My sixteen-year-old sister that I've been taking care of since she was six and I was barely thirteen. I wasn't looking for job applications until I received a letter of application for Lillian. A prestigious academy selected students for scholarships across the world and Lillian wanted to go immediately after hearing about it, after seeing the file on this school.

"Because they had an opening." I say to her, fixing the edges of the sheets she flicked on her bed.

"An opening that meant you could become the leader of an agency? See, I applied for the scholarship, you were able to get a job running one of the biggest, most successful agencies in America." She tells me, gesturing to the new flashy room I was able to get us with the change in job opening.

I give her a look, "I did some digging, as it turns out, there's a high school party hosted by one of the popular kids at the school you're going to." I say, folding my arms. Her face wasn't caked in make-up, she wasn't wearing anything to indicate she was going to a party, but when I traced her Instagram account followings, I knew exactly what she was planning.

She groans out, "It's solely to learn more about the students at the school. I won't be drinking, doing drugs, nothing."

"Oh, it's funny because you thought you were going alone." I tell her, grabbing my phone as my heels click.

"At least you don't look like my Mom, then you would have more objections to that." She yells, grabbing her own shoes. I sigh as I step out into the foyer of the building and shake my head at her when I catch her swiping through pictures of the party already taking place.

"Are you coming for my protection or something else?" She asks me.

I tap the wheel as I drive through the busy New York, "Protection for one. But I can learn a great deal after studying the lifestyle of these teenagers, which is highly different from the one we had in London. Highly different." I penetrate, making sure she knows when I blink at the expansive estate that a line of cars that held records greater than my Mazda. I raise an eyebrow at the sight.

Lillian drops back against her seat, "I'm screwed, this place looks like a Malibu dreamland." She mumbles.

"A house can hold beauty, but if those living within don't have talent, then that dreamland gets slapped with reality soon enough." I explain, pulling in, "Don't come back to me by the end of the night telling me you need to shop at Chanel now." I add.

She laughs, "Never, I love my canvas shoes, thank you very much." She muses, her dark blonde curls brush down her shoulder while I sigh yet again, she made me feel like her mother and each moment I think about it, I feel it too. Stepping into the grand mansion with stone lions on either side of the double doors was certainly a raised eyebrow notion.

Only when I see maids moving around. I frown, "See, the pictures I saw were teenagers." I whisper to Lillian, who gestures up and that's when I look up to the next level and see fairy lights more bodies dancing and louder music above.

"Excuse me, I don't know you two." I hear a woman say, her Ruby red hair practically dazzled against the chandelier above us. She looks at Lillian in disapproval, but she pauses when I raise my eyes to her and she stills in astonishment. Probably because my eyes were narrowed. I make a note to run her face through one of my programmes.