The Unorthodox Life of Aaliyah Kaye Marx

Ok to anyone out there who doesn't like fantasy!! Don't read this! :P

No matter how hard I try, my stories always end up being fantasy based even if I don't want them to be, so it's better to stop reading here than being annoyed later when weird stuff starts happening. :)

P.S I have NO idea where this is going, I just started writing! So of course it will be unexpected cause I have no idea myself whats gunna happen until like five seconds before I write it

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CHAPTER ONE:

"Shoot!" I muttered, sticking my thumb in my mouth to staunch the bleeding from the cut I had just gotten after shoving my hands into one of the many boxes that filled my room.

I stood up and swiped my forehead with the back of my hand as glanced at my new surroundings. Cardboard boxes stacked full of my belongings were piled up everywhere, the empty ones crushed in the centre of the room, the ones yet to be unpacked lay open, some half empty. I'd finished unpacking all my clothes and my large selection of books, the only things that remained were all of my CD's and electrical gadgets.

I sighed, sick of unpacking and decided to take a break. I wandered down the unfamiliar hallway to the long marble staircase which wound down to the first floor, where I could hear unfamiliar laughing and the sound of cups tinkling echoing from the kitchen. The tell-tale signs of a friendly neighbour coming to check in on the newbies...  

Normally I don't give a damn what people think about me, but I knew Mom was big on first impressions, and, not wanting to give a bad one - knowing Mom would skin me alive if I did - I rushed back to my room and into my new en-suite to hurriedly throw on a little mascara and tie my long, black hair into a messy bun. Swapping my sweat stained shirt for a black tank top, I left the black sweatpants and gold converse as they were. If there's one thing I like about myself, it's my hair - dark as a raven's wing, it often glistened blue in the right light.

Grabbing a few Hershey's from the bedside table (what can I say? I'm addicted to chocolate) I shoved them in my pocket whilst unwrapping one with my free hand before dashing out of my room again, pulling my phone out as I meandered down the stairs. Me, being the highly unobservant klutz that I am didn't notice the few boxes of my little brothers toys stacked half-way down. I stood on a little red toy car and my feet went flying out from under me, causing me to topple over the marble banister backwards, my phone flying out of my hand.

I scrunched my eyes shut, waiting for the painful impact of the cold floor below, and instead felt the air rush out of me as a strong pair of arms wrapped around my rigid frame. I cautiously opened my eyes.

"I'm not dead? I really CAN fly!" I muttered. I heard a throaty chuckle resound above me and looked up.

His stormy grey eyes twinkled with a mischievous light, something about him screamed - don't touch this. I marked them soon as I saw them. This guy was a total ass, I knew it. I've made the mistake of trusting too many guys like that, like him. He winked at me as he laughed, flicking his black hair from his tanned and angular face, revealing an eyebrow piercing. Nice.