My name is Aurora Evans. I'm seventeen years old, and my mom thinks I need a babysitter. All my life, I thought that vampires, werewolves, and fairies were fake. A pigment of someone's imagination. Well, guess what. They're real, and it just so happ...
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*Aurora's POV*
I'm so graceful.
I pulled out my laptop, turning it on, and pulling up youtube.
How to be a ballerina....
I learned the five positions.
I almost broke my ankle three hundred thirty five times though.
Anyways,
I checked the time, figuring it was about seven.
Forty nine minutes after seven. Well, I was way off.
I took a quick shower, maybe or maybe not singing extra loudly to Never Be (Five Seconds Of Summer). After that, I put on some mascara, lip gloss, eyeliner, and blush. Nothing too complicated.
I put on one of my many party outfits.
Then, there was a knock on the door, and I knew exactly who it was, so I grabbed my ankle length robe, ruffled my hair, and opened the door.
"Hello." I pretended to act tired or like I was sleeping, keeping my eyes slightly closed.
He just furrowed his eyebrows. Weird, beautiful boy.
"Hi..." He was still staring at my face.
"What?" I then pretended to act like a moody teen. I'm so pulling this off.
He stuck out his index finger, and swiped it across my lip, holding it up for examination.
"Lipstick?" He looked at it closer, smearing it more.
I nodded. Oops.
I forgot about my makeup... I was so close.
"Why?" He put his finger down, pushing his hands into his sweat pant pockets.
"Because.......I tried a makeup tutorial." I lied, but it sounded convincing.
"Then, why is your hair so messy?" I raised one eyebrow, and so did he.
"I didn't care to fix my hair.... Makeup is made for my face, not my hair." Now I had two eyebrows up. We were having this intense staring contest, and it seemed as though it would never end.
"Tell me the truth." He commanded, and I told him everything.
It was like my mind was telling me 'don't do it', but my mouth was running as fast as Usain Bolt. I couldn't control myself.
He used his freaky power on me....
How could he?
When I was finished telling him everything, I slapped my hands across my mouth. He raised his eyebrow at me again, and I slammed the door in his face and locked it.
I am so angry at him. He can use it on George, but I refuse to let him do it to me.
This is not happening again.
After my silent rant, I took of my robe, fixed my lipstick, brushed my hair, and checked to see if anyone was outside..
The coast is clear.
I grabbed my bag, which had in everything I'd need for a party, and climbed out the window.
I almost fell into the bushes, and cracked my head open like an egg, but I'm fine now.
*At Kayla's party*
Honestly, this party is bomb. Loud music, tons of people, and loads of food (including pizza).
I'm glad I took a chance, and sneaked out.
I pushed my way through the crowd to get myself a drink, almost spilling it all over myself.
