I Was Miserable Until I Got 3 Wishes To Change My Life Around.

Chapter One

::Summer::

"Summer, breakfast is ready! Wake up; it's your first day of school as a Senior!" Summer's mom's high-pitched voice hollered to the whole house.

As Summer groaned through her pillows, too tired to get up and get dressed, her mom bellowed again - louder this time. "Summer, you're going to be late! Come on."

It was the last warning that caused Summer to get up; perhaps it was because Summer was tired of the screams and the shouts coming from the kitchen. Looking through her rack of worthless and inexpensive clothes, Summer settled for something casual - a pair of old, ripped and faded skinny jeans that belonged to her older sister and a tight light blue v-neck that resembled Summer's oceanic eyes. After all, it's not like Summer owned any special clothes; they were all hand-me-downs from her older sister who moved out of the house a few years ago or bought from the thrift store. According to Mrs. Rose, as long as it fit, that's all that mattered.

It was only after Summer went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, that she realized her hair was all knotted into a complete disaster. It didn't matter though; Summer had no one to impress, for she was as friendless and lonely as the vampire, Dracula. After brushing her long, auburn hair that cascaded down to her spine, Summer coiffed it into a high ponytail on the side, just like she always did. She didn't even give applying make-up to her delicate face a second thought, as she rushed down the corridor to the small, yet cozy kitchen her house possessed. There was no point at trying to electrify people by putting make-up on when your classmates didn't want to be amazed by the poor, ordinary girl next door.

Her mother, unaware that Summer was facing her back already, barked once more - this time, louder and full of irritation. "Summer Elizabeth Rose, get down here righ-"

Summer would have saved her mother's breath from that piercing scream, but she was too busy clapping her hands to her ears, in order not to hear the more-than-audible shouts from a few inches away. "I'm here, I'm here." She muttered, tiredly. "And I'm ready," She added, sitting down on one of the wooden chairs placed near the kitchen table.

"Oh." Summer's mom let out, astonishment, at the fact that Summer was already ready to eat and then go, covered all over her face. "Well then, here you go." Her mom put down a plate on the table that cost less than students' at Tebetha High t-shirts. In the plate, Summer could find her favourite meal: bacon and eggs.

After thanking her mom a countless amount of times for the delicious meal, Summer made her way to the school's bus. She would have stayed at home longer, but she didn't want to deal with her hung-over dad scorning and scowling at her like he did every other morning. Nor did she want to witness another beating he would give to her dearest mom. Summer tried warning her mom about her dad, how he didn't deserve her. She tried to convince her to divorce the horrible excuse of a father and husband, but her mom always shook her head and informed Summer that he only did these things out of love. Summer doubted it, but at one point, she was tired of trying to convince her mother otherwise, and just sat down helplessly as her drunken dad abused her vulnerable mom one more time.

There Summer stood, waiting for the school bus to come on this dull foggy day. As she waited alone - no one lived anywhere near Summer's neighborhood, for she lived in a poor neighborhood-for the bus to finally arrive, Summer stuck her earphones onto her ears and quietly listened to the music her iPod granted her. It was the day after a rainy one, so the pavement was wet, causing Summer's converse shoes to adopt mud all over them. As she looked down at herself, disappointment was etched all over her face. She didn't need a mirror to know that she looked like exactly what she was-a poor, miserable girl who was unfortunate to be caught starting her Senior Year with rusty old shoes that were now all covered in mud.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted however, by a boy about her age, appearing into clear view. Once he got nearer, she realized that the boy, too, was waiting for the bus to arrive. With shaggy black hair that slightly covered his almond shaped, emerald eyes and a tall body where muscles could be found everywhere, the boy easily could have been the most beautiful boy Summer has ever laid eyes on. She reckoned that she's never seen him around-not only around the neighborhood, but very much around the town itself. And where did he come from? Summer wondered. A minute ago, when she looked back, Summer could have sworn she had seen no one coming her way, yet here he was now, smiling and gazing up at her as if the two were the best of friends ever since childhood. She shook the thought away though; she was too mesmerized by his beauty to think of anything else but his broad shoulders, bulging biceps and dashing grin. She noticed the faintest wrinkle appear when he smiled, which made her blush deeply into a scarlet color. Summer had to force herself to look away and down on her iPod before he'd mislead her consecutive gaping and think she was some crazy lunatic.

Soon enough however, Summer felt the boy looking over her shoulder. She was about to say something, but he broke the silence first. "What are you listening to?" He asked, a clear British accent visible with each one of his enunciated words.

His raspy voice made Summer's spine tingle with adrenaline. His accent caused Summer to swoon. Although, she tried not to look too flustered, for that would give away Summer's emotions and take away the small amount of pride she had. "Uh. . .Well, y-you see. . .Uh-" She stuttered, unsure of what to reply, as if she was trying to figure out a riddle. There was something about that boy that caused Summer to get all nervous and jittery. Of course, maybe it was the very action of talking to someone else besides her mother or drunk of a dad. Nevertheless, the boy made Summer shake in uneasiness and made her talk with uncertainty. "The Beatles." She finally answered, "Eleanor Rigby, to be exact."

"Good song." He reasoned, his cheek turning a light hue of pink from the unusual coldness. "Are you a fan of the band or is it just the only song?"

Summer showed him her iPod, scrolling down the list of her songs classified by alphabetical order according to the artist's name, as if to show him that for a long while, all you saw was The Beatles on the small, flashing screen.

"I must say, you have outstanding taste in music." He admitted, offering her a lopsided grin. His teeth were just a tad crooked, but no one would reckon such thing, because Summer realized, that your eyes were usually too busy getting blinded by the whiteness of them all. "According to me, at least."

"Well, it's nice of you to think so." Summer acknowledged, sincerely. The apprehension to talk to the boy quickly left as soon as it came; she was now able to speak to the boy with no stutter. "People over here are more into Lady GaGa and Justin Bieber." She stated, scoffing at suck a preposterous thing.

"Ah, yes; The GaGa. I've heard about her." said the boy, as if he's never heard of Lady GaGa up until a few hours ago. "That Justin kid on the other hand. . .Never heard of him." He admitted dubiously.

"Do they not have Pop music in England?" Summer asked suspiciously. It was odd for a teenager to never hear of Lady GaGa and Justin Bieber. Practically the whole world knew about the two very much successful artists of the twenty-first century.

"England?" The boy inquired with a quizzical face, as if he's never heard of such place either. But that couldn't be. . .the boy had a British accent; he had to be from there.

"Well. . .isn't that where you're from?"

After a long pause and a puzzled face expression on the boy's face, he regained his posture and promptly answered. "Oh, yes, yes, yes. England. London, England. That's where I'm from, precisely."

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I know I just started, so I don't expect much reads, comments and votes. Of course, I thought that if you had the opportunity to read more than just the prologue, you'll have an idea of this story, and maybe then, you'll become a fan, vote and comment, so there you go. :)

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