Rich Girl, Poor Girl

Chapter two

EDITED 11/DEC/2015

Samantha

The key turned in the lock of the Wright's mansion. The door opened softly to reveal the house's dark interior. Samantha sighed and felt along the wall for the light switch. She then pushed it up as her hands came in contact with its pointy nose.

Bright lights flashed on, temporarily blinding Samantha. She dropped her purse on the table and flopped down onto the couch, speed dialling her best friend, Makenzie Daniels. Tuning the tv to Disney Channel, she said to Makenzie, "Wanna come over?" The line went dead and in no more than three minutes, the bell rang.

The door swung open revealing Samantha's best friend in the whole world. Her red hair slightly ruffled, Makenzie Daniels put Carly Rae Jepson to shame. Makenzie had a slim body and was of medium height, her blue eyes stood out were what really captured everyone's attention . Sometimes Samantha envied her friend's beauty, but rarely. Samantha was just as beautiful as Makenzie.

Samantha's hair was golden blonde and she had beautiful green eyes with long lashes. She was a bit shorter than Makenzie but the same size and Samantha was curvier than Makenzie.

Lyanne

It was minutes to seven by the time Lyanne arrived at home. She had just come home from work. Everyday, after school from three to five, Lyanne went to work at Radical Designs at Westshore Mall. Sometimes she worked for another hour for fifteen dollars, which was two dollars more than the thirteen dollars she usually got per hour. Today was one of those days.

Lyanne pushed open the door of her house. It wasn't really a house but more like a shack. It only had two rooms. Her bedroom was in the back and her father's room was in the front.

"Dad?" She called. She stepped into the house and flicked on the light, but nothing happened. She flicked the switch up and down once more. Nothing.

'Great,' she thought,' they cut the lights.'

Suddenly, a match flickered and a candle was lit. She saw dad's sillouette through the light. He was sitting on the bed and holding the candle. He let the hot wax drip onto his bedside table and molded the candle to the wood. She walked towards him and said," Dad, are you okay?" His eyes were all the answers she needed. They were glazed over, a sign that he was high. It was also a sign for something else.

"Dad, please, no," she turned and tried to run but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. "Dad, don't," she begged, but he didn't stop. She felt his other hand inch slowly up her skirt as tears ran down her cheeks. "Please, no," she sobbed.

Instead, he picked her up and threw her on the bed. Her head hit the headboard and she blacked out.