Chapter 1 - Angel
“Eleanor! Wake up now! The guests are arriving soon!” my mother shrieked from the landing. Groaning loudly, I dragged myself out of bed and shrugged into some random shirt and jeans. Washing my face quickly, I felt instantly refreshed and skipped out of my room, colliding into my mother, Rose Charles.
Eyeing my attire with a disapproving look in her eye, she questioned “Why are you always wearing these? What happened to the other clothes that I bought you? You should really wear them; it is such a waste of money if you don’t. Anyway, James and Angel are reaching soon. Do you remember James? I’m sure you do. And Angel is my friend’s daughter; she is here to stay with us for a few months because her mother is on vacation. I’m sure you don’t mind, do you?” Without waiting for my answer, my mother just swept off to the kitchen to prepare some drinks.
Grumbling to myself, I thought about how my mother always made decisions for me. Even if I didn’t want Angel or James over, she will just assume that I do and proceed with things without asking for my opinions. She always thinks that this is the best thing for me and it gets on my nerves sometimes. She never asks me for my opinions! Even if I did give my opinions, she wouldn’t care about it and everything will go along with her plan.
Still grumbling, I grabbed a glass of juice and plopped myself down on the sofa. Switching on the TV, I tuned in to my favourite channel, where the show CSI was being screened. Settling down, I watched the show engrossed. “DING-DONG!” the bell rang, scaring me out of my wits. “THE MURDERER! HE IS HERE!” I thought. Screaming incoherently, I grabbed a walking stick and jumped at the door. Opening the door as forcefully as I could, I squeezed my eyes shut and swung the stick blindly, hoping to hit the murderer square on his head. I didn’t really want to see the murderer.
“OWW!” came a high-pitched bimbotic scream. Opening my eyes, I saw that my stick didn’t hit the murderer. Instead, it hit some blonde girl with a pink bobby hairband on her head. She had quite a nice figure, curves in the right places, with enormous blue eyes that looked like it can talk. She was dressed in a super short mini skirt, with a top that looked like its gonna split at any time. Frowning slightly, I apologized profusely. “I’m so sorry! I thought you were somebody else. You are… …?” Brushing her hair with her comb furiously, she said “I’m Angel. Angel Winters. Mrs Charles invited me to spend the next few months with her family because my mother is on a holiday.” Realisation dawned on me, and I shouted to my mother “Angel is here, Mom! Come on out!” Without waiting for me to invite her in, Angel stepped over the stairs of the porch and into my house.
“MRS CHARLES! IM HERE!” she screamed again, with her extremely high-pitched voice. Oh, my poor poor ears. I hate for you to suffer. My mother, being the woman she was, rushed out of the recreation room, all nicely dressed, with not a hair out of place. My father, Joe Charles, followed close behind too, also dressed in some shirt that I have never seen in my whole life. God, they even bought new clothes so that they can welcome someone! How extravagant can my parents get? Giving Angel a bear hug, they started fussing over her and complimenting her immaculate dressing and fashion sense. Rolling my eyes, I plopped myself down on the sofa and continued watching my show.
Growling at me softly, my mother warned “Switch of the TV right now! Can’t you see that our guest is here? Lead her to the guest room now! God, how did I end up with a daughter like you? I hope that you can learn from Angel during these few months! Or else I’ll gladly switch you for Angel! ” Angel, obviously hearing every single word that my mother had just said, just plastered a smile onto her Barbie face and said “Sure Mrs Charles, I’ll do my best to teach dear Eleanor here about whatever she needs to know for fashion!” okay, my mom’s words did sting a bit. Brushing it off, I gave her my best death glare, and grabbed her hot pink fat suitcase, hauling it over to the guest room. Plonking the suitcase down on the bed, I turned to leave without saying a word. Though this is the first time that I’m meeting her, I already didn’t like her, everything about her. From her perfect hair to her perfect manicured nails, from the way she acts so sweetly in front of others to the real stuck up bitch that she was. I hated everything about her, I was sure that everything from her blonde hair to her straight perfect nose, huge eyes, and bleached teeth are fake. ‘She’s as real as the average Barbie doll,’ I thought to myself. Silently, I swore not to talk to her much and try to tolerate her as well as I can.
Before my mom could say anything to me,, I slipped back into my room, plopping myself onto my bed and started on my homework. I should really catch up on my studies or I will end up flunking everything again. Sighing to myself, I picked up my pen and made my way to a long and torturous studying session.
