Everything Keeper Of The Lost Cities

Biana's POV Chapter 1-12 Part 1/?

(This is 2311 words long not counting this warning to you about that otherwise it is 2331 words long counting this.)

Chapter 1

"BIANA AMBERLY!" MY MOM called with her musical crisp Britsh accent voice as she came over to me while I was applying my makeup. "Have you decided that you are not going to go shopping with me?" I applied lipgloss over my red lips. I tried not to smudge any makeup, adding blush on. "No, mom" I said, walking over to my mom the sadness of my depressed mom. I pulled my long brown hair into a fishtail braid then had a few loose strands that I crimped and curled, wishing that I didn't ignore my mom while doing it. This was exactly the kind of mood, I went out of my way to make. Why I wore bright dresses and tried to stand out, blocked by the other Vackers who were at least more famous than me. It was the only way to survive as an only Female in my immediate family other then her mom as a twelve-year-old. "Then perhaps you can explain why you were putting your too glittery eyeshadow on instead of coming here?" My mom held up my eyeshadow like it was evidence in a crime. Though, to her it probably was. She'd dragged my immediate family to Atlantis in the Lost Cities, assuming her family would be excited about the store shopping. She didn't seem to realize that unless there was makeup and fancy clothing that no one seemed to care. I pulled out my hair (I don't know if she has a canon habit that she does.)-----a nervous habit---------and stared at my crystally pink heels. There was no way to make my mom understand why I had to do my makeup all the time to make me look more pretty. I couldn't even care less about my makeup that I bought. Chatter from dozens of people walking around echoed off the crystal-made floors and splashed around the fabulous room. But their gossip about people were the real problems. Scattered, disconnected pieces of a thought of mine broadcasted straight into my brain----like being in a left out room with hundreds of people gossiping different things at the same time. They sliced into my consciousness, leaving sharp pains into my wake about never manifesting or that I shouldn't be born.

I was very different from them though and their thoughts.

It was my secret-----my disappointment-----since I was born and since the very few years the thought started when I was six years old. I'd tried blocking the thought. Tried ignoring that I was the only young girl born in my family. Nothing helped. And I can never tell anyone that because they would die to be in my place. They thought my family was famous and good looking naturally and that there was no pressure on them and that they didn't wear makeup because the girls just wore makeup. "Since you've decided that your more important, why don't you actually come?" Her mom asked. She pointed to a picture of an enormous glittery pink ball gown dress with a jewel in the center of the picture on the window. "Explain to your family how the poffy ballgown dress differs from the other clothings we've looked at." I repressed a disappointing feeling of feeling left out of being the only girl then I sang. I'd glanced at the picture when we entered the shop, and my awesomesauce mind recorded every detail. As I recited the appearance, my mom's face twisted into a smile, and I could hear the gossiping grow increasingly sour. They weren't exactly fans of their famous child fashion lover. They called me "Princess Prettypants". I finshed my answer, my mom whispered something that sounded like "good-job-sweetheart" as she lightleaped to the stores' in Mysterium and went to Slurps and Burps: Your Merry Apothecary for medicine. I followed my mom. The thin shop walls separating the two rooms didn't block the gossiping, but they muffled it. I grabbed what little relief I could of being the only girl. "Nice job, brattypants,"----Dex Dizznee-----a boy wearing a short tunic that said back off! I'm gonna have potions explode-----sneered as he shoved past her to join his father. "Maybe their write an extrodinare article about you. 'Child Talks About Lame-o-dresses and clothing.'

Dex was still bitter at me that my parents were a good match and had more then one child but that he didn't have siblings that could be treated good by everyone ever since they were born compared to my prestigious family. His rejection of having a family with triplets and a bad match fueling him because he was the exact opposite of me.