Bad Girl

one: victoria leigh

CHAPTER ONE

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Victoria Leigh. Hmm, it did sound like a good girl's name. It sounded like the type of girl who handed her homework in all the time -- the girl that scored straight A's in all her exams and tests, never failed a subject, even PE, always listened to her dad and a girl who never interfered with any bad people. Ever.

Victoria Leigh happened to be my name, and I happened to be a very good girl. My life was very simple. When I got handed homework, I did it -- even though deep down inside I didn't actually want to. If I found out about a test, I would study and revise all night long in agony; then ace it. I didn't get rewarded -- made just a 'well done' would do -- which was what mainly made me drown in boredom.

Not just that, but I obeyed my parents. I never went to any of the parties people I knew went to on the weekends, sometimes. Not even a droplet of alcohol has touched my taste buds-- at least, I think so. And I'm sure my brain hasn't ever thought about cigarettes-- or even thought about committing any crimes, like stealing. It wasn't like I had a reason to steal, anyway.

My parents were rich.

I lived in a big house with myself, my little brother and my parents only. It was a small street, with a few big houses.

The house I lived in was perfect. I had my little bedroom- although I wouldn't count it as little. It was big. I would be in there nearly all day and my parents would somehow think I was out because even my shouts couldn't be heard from their room because the house was so spaced out.

My grandparents were rich, so I was brought up in a wealthy family.

With enough opportunities, links and money, I could easily get anything I wanted. Though, all the things I wished for like the new iPhone or a huge flat screen TV had already made its way into my bedroom with a quick snap of my manicured fingers.

I forever wished for the neighbouring house to have someone living in it. Money obviously could not buy that -- well only from the view of the people buying it.

My bedroom window was facing another window of the creepy old house, which resulted in me having the view of an empty, damp-walled, dirty bedroom. All I could have the sight of was a dirty window with fungus growing on the sides and inside the other bedroom was nothing but a door and a wrecked table.

That probably explained why my curtains were always-well mostly-drawn closed and my room was dim and cosy.

Anyway, back to my little life, instead of that creepy old house. My mum had previously worked as a fashion designer but she retired soon after she gave birth to Bob, my little brother -- short for Bobby. Bob didn't do much; he just laid about in the living room, either playing with his toy cars or sleeping in his little cot. He didn't bother me and I never really played with him or carried him.

My dad worked as a police officer. Yeah. He carried dangerous black guns around arresting bad people. He never really came home much because he was too caught up in all these meetings and gatherings, and because lately he'd been caught up in a criminal investigation and had to go out of town for some more information and clues on the crime scene.

Fascinating, eh?

Mum was sick most of the time because then, the year was changing to an autumn... crossover with winter season and it was pretty cold and that resulted in me driving to school all alone.

With dad at his crime investigation work and mum basically hauled up in her boiling hot bedroom with scrunched up tissues thrown like everywhere, sounded pretty boring if you asked me. However, I didn't mind. Homework and studies and countless TV show episodes ready downloaded were existing to keep me busy.

I honestly didn't mind school. No, I was not the nerdy girl who sat in the library reading Harry Potter books, which I would love to do, but I didn't. Mainly because I didn't have the time. But then no, I was not the girl who sashayed around with her little gang possy with thick eyeliner and overdone mascara and makeup everywhere in her handbag. No offence to those people, though.

I was the normal girl. Not really popular, not really unpopular. Many people have known me for my great grades and for such great mark results. I'd been picked for cheerleading once with the other girls but well, I never fit that.

The majority of the students at PromWell High looked up to me... somehow. More like admired. Most teachers somehow liked me and treated me way better than the other students. Not fair, I know, but what could I say? I spent most of my time studying and paying close attention in class without talking back to the teachers and making sure that I didn't fail any subject. Who could blame them for appreciating me?

So that made the girls that strutted around with makeup and handbags and chattering about boys, dislike me. Okay, I wouldn't call them that, because that was mean. But they hated me, so whatever, I didn't care, as long as I returned home to do my homework and essays, I'd be fine without them.

I'd never had a chance with any boys either. If you didn't count the time where Janson kissed me. It wasn't as simple as it sounds. No, we did not haul up inside the janitors closet when we were sixteen and cuddle up with each other furiously and kiss and make out until lunch bell rang; it was nothing like that.

It was in year two. Janson Treck was dared to kiss me, on the cheek. I was talking to my friends about my new tea party and he came up to me and pecked me on my cheek. I was so embarrassed and my friends all gasped and laughed. But that was in year two, when I ran to the bathroom and washed my cheek, thinking I'd catch a disease with all his boy cooties.

You could tell, by what I'd just described. My life was pretty boring; I was fed up with this normal, average life and I wanted to change, dramatically.

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