R E B E L L I O U S

Chapter I

I wake up the the sound of my alarm clock. At first I groan because it's 4:30 in the morning but then I remember.

Today is the day.

Today is the day we leave for New York. We're going for spring break, because I finally talked my parents into it, plus my sister wants to look for a job there. Which is a plus for me because if she gets one we have to go to New York at least three times a year. 

I quickly get out of bed and hop in the shower. I have to look my best for my arrival in my city. This is not a time for grubbing it in yoga pants and a croptop, this is a time for a dress and heals. Yes, I know, I'm extremley dramatic, but that's who I am. Since I live in a lonely, boring, town where nothing exciting ever happens, I had to find some way to keep myself busy. So, naturally, I pretended I was famous. I dress nice everywhere I go, you never know who you might see. Plus, I have this sort of dream that one day I'll be humming a song to myself, and a beautiful male creature will come up and sing with me, while twirling me around in a cute cafe. 

After I wash my hair, and condition it, I scrub my body with my favorite bodywash: Secret Charm by Victoria's Secret. I rinse then dry myself off with a fluffy lavender colored towel. After I'm done blowdrying my golden hair, I plug in my curling iron. I curl my lower-back lengthed hair into spirals, then comb through them with my fingers to create three large ringlets of gold hair. Then, I apply some ivory colored powder, multiple coats of mascara to bring out my blueberry eyes, winged eyeliner, and a few dabs of red lipgloss. My makeup isn't too much, or too little, it's just my style. 

I go to my walk-in closet, (where I have stratigically stocked all the right clothes for my New York debue) and pick out my outfift: a black, sleevless, high-necklined, dress, with puffy silk running from my waist down. I accesorized with a big, red, silky, bow keeping half of my hair up. I wore a pearl necklace, red belt around my waist, and simple red heels. When I said I dressed fancy, I wasn't kidding. People mistake me for being older than twenty all the time because I dress like a twenty-yearold. Which is what I'm going for too, kids my age are way too imature, and I've always gotten along with the seniors at my school. 

I walk downstairs to see my three Louis Vuittan suitcases waiting at the door by our butler. I walk into our giant kitchen and see my mother and father waiting there with a golden box, accesorized with a giant golden bow. A smile creeps on my face as I recognize where the box is from, Kate Spade, a.k.a my favorite store in the whole world, besides Prada and Chanel of course. 

I excitedly walked over to my parents, and slowly untied the gilded bow and lifted off the shimmering cover. There it was. Beautifully stitched, and the perfect shade of blood red, a Kate Spade Fontaine Trenchcoat. I shreiked and hugged both of my parents.

"I love it so much! It will go perfect with my new Collana Heels! I can't thank you guys enough!" I said while letting go of them and lifting out the piece of art. It has always been my dream to go to New York, and walk the streets in a red trench coat. I talked about it all the time when I was younger, and I had dreams of my roaming Time Square in my red trenchcoat and black tights. Now, it's coming true!

I am not spoiled, I work for my gifts. I have to have a 4.0 at all times, which is freaking hard when you go to a private, pre-college school. Plus, I can't act out of hand, I always have to come home by ten, I can't cuss, or argue with my parents, and much more. In other words, I can't wait to get out of the house. I mean, I love my parents and all, but I need to be free, I need to take risks, I need to start living. All my friends tell me they want my life, but they don't know what my actual life consists of. It isn't just Prada purses, and Pietra pumps, my life actually isn't all that good. I know I sound so spoiled because they give me anything I want, but that's just because they don't want me to out any of our family secrets to the press. My family is pretty messed up. My dad is an alcoholic, and let's just say my mom is always a victim of his actions. Even though he gets mean with my mom, they still go everywhere together. They are constantly on trips, so I probably only see them one or two weeks in a row, then they leave again. It's funny how they can control me from Monacco. My dad won't let me date unless he approves of the man. In other words, unless the guy comes from a billionaire family, or he's a freaking prince, he won't let me date. So, I've only gone out with one guy in my city, and his father and mine played golf together so it was a given. He was stuck up and only talked about politics and how his butler was bad service. Yes, I may dress in designer, and look stuck up, but I'm a lunatic, like literally. I just have noone to act crazy around. All I want to do is sing on the streets of New York, not have someone play a violin for me while I eat garlic bread. I want to wake up at five am to go on a jog in Central Park, not be wheeled in a horse-drawn carriage through the park. But no, I can't act out of hand. And yes, that is considered out of hand for my father. 

"Hey where's my sentimental gift?" My gorgeous sister said as she walked in with a wink. She's twenty, but she looks like she's twenty-five. I guess the older-looking age runs in the family. People say she looks like an older version of me. I guess they're right, we have the same blueberry eyes, dark eyebrows, long golden hair, long face, fit but thick body. 

"Don't worry, we didn't forget about you." My mom said smiling. We look most like our mother, we have her blonde hair, and her eyes, but we have our dad's long face and deep-set eyes.

My mom turned around and grabbed a large, red, Coach box, with a glittery bow. 

"Coach! What could this possibly be?.. Oh my goodness! It's per-fect!" She squealed as she lifted out a Shiny, black- pleather, coach purse with a huge lock dangling in the front. 

"We thought you could use it when you are going to your interviews" My dad said while nodding.

"Thank you so much!" She said in her embrace with them, "It's perfect.".

"Robert, please get our bags in the car!" My mother yelled down the hall, to our butler, "We must be going if we want to arrive on time to our flight.".

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The next few chapters will be longer. Promise(;

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