chapter 1.

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Sometimes I feel like I'm a shell of a person. On the outside I act as though everything is fine, but on the inside I feel empty. Maybe that's a bit dark for a fourteen year old to say, but there's no other way to put it.

I've never felt as though I've belonged anywhere. My home has never felt like home. School no longer feels like my safe place - not after my favourite teacher left. I used to take dance classes too, but had to quit when my mom started abusing me because I couldn't exactly cover up in a hoodie and sweatpants during ballet class.

Last year, my dad packed up and left. There was no warning. He just decided that he no longer wanted to be with my mom anymore and moved out. I didn't realise the severity of it. I didn't think that just because he was divorcing my mom meant that he was quitting his job of being a father too.

I haven't spoken to him since that very, very awful morning.

My mom has always had anger issues, but my dad always managed to be able to calm her down. I, however, can not. The moment she became a single parent, she also became a very angry, hard hearted person.

I've had to learn to fend for myself over the last twelve months. Mom's never around now. She has a full-time job at the nearest restaurant down the street so I don't see her Monday-Friday at all, and then she disappears Friday night to go out with her friends and doesn't return until very bright and early Monday morning.

Before everything went to shit, I was taking drama classes at school and we had someone come in to watch one day. I had no idea who they were. Honestly I just thought they were some random of the street, but then after the classes ended the lady pulled me aside and offered me an audition to play the daughter of a someone in a movie. That was about as much of a description I got at the time.

Considering I was actually enjoying drama classes, and it was about the only thing I was enjoying - still is - I figured why the hell not. Obviously I had no clue that it would lead to me now playing the daughter of Wanda Maximoff. Or should I say, fake daughter? No, I'm real. Just in a different universe. One of the universe's Wanda is actually happy in.

I wouldn't say I've always been a huge marvel fan. Truthfully I only started watching the films when I was told I was auditioning for them. But, I very quickly became hooked and I think it's all I watch now. Well, that and Grey's Anatomy.

Tomorrow is my first day. I don't actually start shooting until next week, but we have a table read and rehearsals beforehand. I also meet everyone tomorrow which makes me so nervous that I think I might be sick. What makes it worse though is that I have a whole day of school beforehand.

Being a Sunday night, my mom isn't home, so I made myself pasta for dinner and cleaned up the apartment a little bit before heading upstairs and getting everything that I could possibly need, ready for tomorrow.

Once I'm done that, I shower, get into my comfiest pair of pyjamas and get under my sheets to watch WandaVision. I might have accidentally binged the first six episodes and not gone to sleep until two a.m. but it was worth it.

At six o'clock my alarm blares and I reach around my bed as I search for my phone. Finally finding it, I turn off my alarm and drag myself into the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I'm doing so, I can hear a door slam shut. My mom's home.

My heart starts beating so fast that I think I can actually hear it through my chest. She's most likely hungover which means she most likely going to be violent. Every Monday morning is a game of 'how quiet can Lexie Reid be whilst trying to sneak past her own mother without getting slapped'.

I fail every time.

Today I don't even get the chance to try as she barges through my bedroom and into my bathroom. "Where is my work uniform?" She questions. She makes no effort to say hello. "I'm not sure. Didn't you wear it to work on Friday? I haven't seen you since so..." I shrug.

"Don't talk to me like that, Alexandra," she warns. "Why didn't you do the laundry like you were meant to?"

"I did do the laundry, mom. You just had your work uniform with you so I couldn't wash it," I explain, looking back at her through the mirror. "Besides, I'm sure you're perfectly capable of washing your own clothes."

I instantly regret what I said. Sometimes words come out of my mouth before I can think of the consequences, and this was one of those times.

My mom yanks me back by the arm and slaps her hand flat across my face. "I go out and work every single day so that you and I can have roof over our heads. The least you can do is my laundry you ungrateful piece of shit!"
She slaps me again, harder. Tears well in my eyes as the sting lingers on my cheek. "Oh, don't fucking cry," mom chuckles dryly.

"You're the reason your fucking father left in the first place," she mumbles and she walks out of my bathroom. The moment she does, I close and lock the door before dragging my back down along it until my knees are curled up to my chest and my head is in my hands.

I cry for the next twenty minutes. Sometimes I do wonder if I'm the reason my dad left. I was never a particularly easy child and I think there was always a part of him that wishes he didn't have a kid. He was always quite selfish. He didn't know what it was like to care about anyone other than himself.

Finally, I stand myself up from the cold bathroom tiles and finish getting ready for school. The red hand mark my mother left on my cheek, meant that I had to put makeup which I hate doing but it's better than having to explain to anyone why my cheek is a raw shade of red.

I got changed into jeans, a flannel shirt and my converse before making my way out of the apartment as quickly and as quietly as I could.

Usually I don't eat breakfast in the morning because I always feel to anxious to eat, but the gurgling of my stomach was not going to subside until I ate so I searched my bag for a few loose coins and bought myself a muffin from the coffee shop down the street.

hiii :) I'm so excited to write the rest of this book! I have so planned ahha

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