Untamed Beauty

Chapter One

           I don't want to wake up. I absolutely do not want to wake up. I am never going to wake up. I'll just spend the rest of my life asleep. Surely that's healthy! I mean, I won't ever get sleep deprivation! Although, I will have to get something to eat eventually...

           As if my thoughts and stomach were connected, the loud rumbling of my gut echoed around the room. I groaned inwardly as I realised that I had to get up for school... And obviously food.

           My eyes slowly fluttered open, the plain ceiling of my new bedroom greeted me with a smile. Wait, can ceilings smile? I think I have somehow misplaced my brain.

           There was a loud rumble, like an earthquake, and I knew that tum tum was growing impatient. Uhhh, yeah. I have officially gone insane; I mean, I've named my gut for God's sake! I groaned once again as I sat up on my bed, the sudden movement making my head swim a little.

           My sheets were crumpled at the end of my bed and my quilt had been kicked onto the floor at some point during the night. Knotty, black hair was in my face and I pushed it back with my hand. When I saw the reflection in the floor length mirror across the room, I jumped in shock.

           I look like I just came out of a horror movie... And I'm the psycho murderer! My dark hair - that was so black it almost looked blue - was sitting on top of my head in a knotty mess like a rat's nest, my blue eyes - that are basically grey - were outlined with gunk and I had a massive drool mark down the side of my chin.

           I think I might just need a quick shower. Taking my time to get out of bed, I sighed heavily. First day at a new school, yay! I thought sarcastically to myself.

           My gut rumbled once again making itself noticed. Food first I guess. I trudged across the room and eventually got to my door. As soon as I swung it open, I was instantly met with the smell of burning waffles. My eyes widened slightly. Oh no, Mum's cooking again.

           All sleepiness went away as I raced down the stairs. Please let there be no fire like last time, please let there be no fire.

           Luckily, there wasn't any fire when I walked into the kitchen, but there was a hell of a lot of smoke. My Mum was standing by the stove, coughing and spluttering while waving a tea towel over the burning pan. And then, the smoke alarm went off.

           The ringing, it was piercing my ears! I swear my ear drums were going to bleed or even explode! My hands went to cover my ears but it didn't help. Why does this hurt so much? I noticed my mother doing the exact same thing as me, I was gonna have to turn the alarm off somehow.

           Maybe I should throw something at it... I glanced around the kitchen and spotted a spatula. I made my way over to grab it and was able to reach it. God, I hope this works. I feel like I'm going to scream!

           I aimed at the smoke alarm and threw the spatula, it hit it and the blaring alarm went off. I sighed in relief. I guess this smoke alarm has a louder frequency.

           "Claire? Are you alright?" My mother asked, concern etched in her voice. I looked up to meet her eyes and smiled, "Yeah, I'm fine. This smoke alarm must be different from the others I guess." She smiled for a moment and went back to waving a tea towel over the still burning pan, "The smoke alarm is different, sure."

           That was weird. I shrugged it off and made my way over to her, "Mum, where's dad?" I asked her, an emotion flickered over her face but it was gone in an instant. "Oh, he's dealing with some... stuff in town."

           Okaaay. "Well Mum, you should know that Dad and I are the only ones allowed to cook. 'Cause, quite frankly, you can't cook." No hurt showed on her face; she knows that she can't cook. She let out a huge sigh, grabbed the handle of the pan, went over to the door that leads to the garden and chucked the black waffles out.

           "But sweetheart," She began to say as she walked back over to me, "It's tradition." I rolled my eyes at the ceiling. It was 'tradition' for the three of us to have waffles on my first day at a new school; but it was only tradition because it happened so many times.

           "Next time, Mum, call me down when you want to cook anything." I emphasized the word anything because if she cooks at all, it usually ends up in smoke or flames. Once, she even blew up the microwave!

           We helped each other out to cook another batch of waffles; well, I mainly did it but Mum handed me the ingredients when I needed them, so I guess that counts for something. When everything was finally done, we sat down and ate our breakfast in comfortable silence.

           The three of us moved here to Valbarrow a week ago. I was surprised when my parents told me we were moving back here because this was our home town. We've been on the run for ten years - since I was seven - for a reason I did not know; but I learned to accept it.

           I finished my waffles and put the dirty dishes in the sink, ready to be cleaned. I checked the clock above the fridge and the time was 7:43. Ooo, better have that shower now if I plan to show up at school on time.

           Getting ready was a complete blur, I just wore some casual clothes with my sneakers and put my hair up in a high ponytail. Throughout it all though, I wondered if maybe this time we would stay. Maybe this time we wouldn't leave suddenly like all those other times. There must be a reason why we came back here, to Valbarrow. There must be.

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~Author's Note~

Hello my readers, voters and comment-ers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Considering this is the first chapter I'll just quickly explain to you what I do in each Author's Note. I write a quick hello to y'all, I do a Question Of The Update, I then do a Did You Know? (it's usually related to the QOTU) and I finally finish it off with the reason why I dedicated this chapter to someone...

QOTU: What author inspires/motivates you? Mine is J.K. Rowling. I know it might seem cliche but it truly is amazing how she pushed really hard to get her book published.

DYK?: Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone was first considered as a children's book.

Dedicated to flying-person - you are always so funny in your books and I especially loved He was Looking For A Princess, Instead He Found Me and They Were Expecting A Lady, Instead They Met Me.

Vote . . . Comment . . . Read  (usually people say vote, comment, fan but if you just read that's fine by me :D)

Lex, xXxX