Prologue

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P R O L O G U E

Once upon a ti-

'What are you doing?'

'Starting the story?'

'Lucy, this is not the nineteenth century. We're starting this book my way.'

'But you're just a voice in my head.'

'You're so stubborn. And uncreative. Shut up and let me start the story off.'

'Fine, but I'm continuing it afterwards.'

'Okay.'

'Go.'

Wake up in the mornin' feelin' like P-Diddy

Grab mah glasses I'm out the door I'm gonna hit the city

Before I leave brush ma teeth with a bottle o' Jack

'Cuz when I leave for the night, I ain't comin' back

I'm talkin'-

"Ummfff." A groan escapes my lips, annoyance taking over my sleep-filled body. Why did I set that as my alarm again? Oh, yeah. Because it's the most annoying thing on the face of Earth.

Stopping the alarm on my phone, I sit up groggily, stretching my muscles and letting out a very unlady-like yawn. Another groan makes its way to my lips as I realize I over-slept.

My old iPhone rings, and the caller ID gives me the urge to die.

"Hello?" My sleepy voice answers.

"DID YOU OVERSLEEP AGAIN?!?! GET IN THE HOUSE, NOW! BREAKFAST ISN'T GOING TO MAKE ITSELF!" Rebecca, my step sister, yells. I hold the phone away from my ear, cutting out her string of profanities.

Good morning to you, too. I think to myself, rolling my eyes.

"Be right there." I mumble as soon as I don't catch any of the echoes.

Yeah, I don't really live in the house. I don't live outside, don't get me wrong. I was just made to live in the store house, a couple of meters away from my dad's mansion.

I wouldn't have to live here if he was still alive. He decided to marry Barbara, the Wicked Witch Of Washington. I laugh at the thought of Barbara wearing one of those pointy hats, a grotesque mole on the tip of her carrot shaped nose. The funny part of that name? Dad gave it to her.

As soon as I finish my usual morning routine, I run to the kitchen with my school bag. In the oak kitchen, I place my school bag on the counter and begin cooking.

"BREAKFAST!!!" I holler after stacking three pancakes each on three plates and placing other breakfast food on the table.

Rebecca struts down the stairs first, swaying her hips with one hand resting on the hip of her magenta dress, and the other dangling in the air. I roll my eyes at the click-clack of her stilettos, trying to fathom why she bothers straightening her auburn hair every morning, when it looks pretty enough when it's wavy.

Jason, my half brother, soon enters the kitchen, flashing me a grin. Although he came out of the witch hell doesn't even have a place for, he got my dad's personality. Looks as well. The same three colored eyes - like myself - and brown hair that never fails to look like it came out of the hairstyle magazines. With his oh-so-glamorous looks, he - and Rebecca - unlike me are the people everyone want to be.

"Where's Barbara?" I question when I don't see her.

"She's still asleep. Hangover, I'm guessing." Jason replies with a slightly amused smile on his face. Rebecca's head shoots up from her nails to glare at Jason. She seems to do that whenever my half brother is nice to me.

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