Chapter 1

106 8 1
                                    

7:30 already? I rolled over to face my alarm that I set much louder than I thought. I rubbed my eyes to see if I was dreaming. Nope! It's 7:30 alright.

I slowly raised my hand out from under the covers and switched the alarm off.
Today = Failure. I'm going to a new school, to meet new people, to eat lunch on my own...Well that's not why I'm going to school but I know that's what will happen, just like all the other schools I ever went to.

High school is just full of failure for me. Hey! That should be a song. I'll add it to all my other songs I thought would become a hit. That reminds me! The only thing I'm good at is music, or so I'm told. I love music. When I was nine, my dad inspired me to play the guitar and see what thoughts flew into my head. Although at that moment I was kinda peckish so the first thing that flew into my thick skull was 'I'm hungry like a hound dog' And there you have it! My first song became a number 1 hit in the charts! Yeah right! My dad was my only fan, but to be honest that was good enough for me.

So far I have written eight songs (Nine if you include the lightbulb I encountered talking about my High school fails) I still play guitar but not as much as I used to when my dad was around.

That's another thing. My dad died when I was 13. He died of a heart attack. I was at school and I came home thinking that day was just another average school day. Until my mother picked me up, which was different. I asked her 'Where's Dad?' and then I knew something was definitely wrong. Her eyes started to overflow with tears. She tried to wipe them away but they kept coming.

We moved house, after house, after house.

And now you're up to date with my life. Another house = Another school and you all know that another school means? Failure. It's simple maths.

I'm 16, living with my mother who has never loved anyone quite as much as my father. 'He stole my heart, and took it with him to his grave.' - My mother at my father's funeral. I don't know how she managed to talk about it.

My mother and I have never spoken about it since.

Wow, that was a lot to get through. I hope none of you are crying. I bet you think I'm handling it very well but I'm not. I have had 3 years to mourn and now? Now is when I focus on my grades and helping around the house.

I went from an A to a D. Somehow my mother wants me to get to an A in a week. What. The. Hell.

Anyways back to me, late for my first day as per usual.

I groaned while shuffling my feet out of bed into the frozen air. Are the heaters even on? My feet tried to find the wooden floor and they succeeded, eventually. Ew! My foot touched something slimy. What the hell was that? I managed to raise my body out of bed to peer over and see what it was. Leftover pizza. Gross!

I shuck my foot vigorously to free it from the pizza which had made a home in between my toes. I grabbed a tissue to wipe the remaining toppings off my heel. Did the tissue help me? Of course not! It decided to join the pepperoni and stick to my foot. Smart move Annabel!

I lifted myself from sitting on the bed to standing on the tissue with my right foot and to standing on the cold wooden floor with my left.

I stomped gracefully to my wardrobe. I have been to lots of schools but this school, without a doubt, has the worst school uniform I have ever seen in my life. And that school uniform is? No school uniform! I'm staring at my own clothing. Also, just between you and me, the school uniform looks better than my average clothes anyway. I have no fashion sense whatsoever. I said I was good at music, I never said I was good at fashion. Enough about fashion. I'm boring myself to death.

Protector Of The FourWhere stories live. Discover now