Scarlett is the teenage princess of the Atlantic Sea. She is forced to stay on land in America to stay safe, as the Atlantic Ocean is in war with the Pacific. She finds her new school tough as she faces bullies, troubles, and her first love.


1. I am compared to a juice carton and a monkey? (CH1)

"This is my secret.", I twist my neck around to face Indigo. He stares at me with those eager blue eyes, waiting for me to unravel my truth before him. I nervously look down to the sea water's edge. I dig my toes into the bark coloured sand, gulping the bubble of fear that is stuck in my throat. Should I do this? Is this safe? Would he tell? No. No is the answer to all those questions. I'm breaking all the rules here, which can lead to serious consequences. Torture? Death? Regret? I will face all of these sometime in life.

I lift my right foot, slowly, my brain is screaming 'NOOOOOOO!!!!!', my heart is screaming 'YESSSSS!!!!'. I place my foot on the soft sea bed, just in time to see Indigo's face transform into horror.





The fresh sea spray specks sprinkle and sparkle on my soaked face as I'm blown in the wind. I feel like I'm soaring across the sea as I dangle by the edge of our home-boat. The engine is roaring like thunder, it's so loud I get lost in my own world. As I look down at the water I see a dark shadowy shape of a dolphin skimming the edge of the water surface.

"MUM!!!!" I screech at the top of my air sockets.

"WHAT?????" She screams back from the driver wheel.

"THERE'S A DOLPHIN!!!!" I say in amazement, pointing just in time as it flipped out of the water spraying me in salty water.


I turn around to see a magical site of a fleet of dolphins skimming across the sea and setting off into the sunset. I tumble closer for a better sight, taking in the beautiful and perfect moment. Suddenly the boat hits a wave. The hit is too hard. I slip. Just in time I clutch to the handle bar.

"SCARLETT?!?!?!?!!!!!!!" My mum drops the wheel and sprints as fast as she can across the slippery ice like deck.

"MUM", I beg, regaining my balance. Mum reaches out for me just as a wave hits the boat. The whole deck shudders knocking me and my mum off. The last thing I see is the silhouette of a dolphin beneath me.

I wake up screaming in tune with alarm clock ring. I notice beads of sweat are trickling down my forehead. "...Mum", I whisper to myself. Snap out of it Scarlett! Stop feeling sorry for yourself! That was eight years ago. In my head I slap myself on the cheek.

I throw my duvet on to the floor. I can clean that up later. If I remember. I sludge my way towards the seahorse themed calender that's pinned to my pale blue wall, whilst trying to wipe away the sleep in my eyes. The blood from my face paled. Oh Fish. February the 5th. First day of a new school. In a new country.

I pull on a baby blue V - neck shirt with a purple cardigan. I dance around trying to get my blue denim jeans to fit. Usually I'd just walk around in a pair of shorts or a loose dress, unfortunately this is winter. The cold, bitter winter.

I huff down my slice of toast. Slip on my purple beanie hat and converse. I looked outside the window, sure enough the bus is already parked outside.

"Love you Dad! I'm off!", I call upstairs whilst opening the door.

"Hold on! WAIT THERE!", he yells back from his room.

"DAD, I have to go." He scrambles down the wooden stairs loosening his collar with his tie in the other hand. As he jumps off the last step he catches me in a warm hug.

"Good luck. Your mother would be proud of you", he smiled.

"Dad, don't."

"Anyway, have a good time." He pats me on the shoulder, "You better go", he eyes outside the door. I twirl round to find that the bus engine has started and the door closed.

"Bye, dad!", I kiss him on the cheek and legged it. The bus has already driven off. I start to chase after it screaming my voice out for it to stop. The kids at the back window started to stare at me in amusement, pointing and laughing instead of getting the driver to stop. The next thing I knew I was facing the ground. I have tripped. Stupid converse laces! I brush myself off onto my feet even though my knee is in agony as I limp for it. Never have I ever been good at walking on a flat solid surface called 'The Ground'. For me it is the most deadliest place on the planet.

Someone must have found some sympathy for me since the bus stops to a sudden halt. I drag myself across the bus's side until I reach the door. It squeaked open with a rusty airy sound of oldness.

"Sorry. I didn't see you there, Missy.", said a dodgy old bald man with a goatee beard who must have been the bus driver. I didn't bother answer him. I just wanted to sit down. I climbed up the steps and made my way through the seats as a chubby round bloke with a horrible icky green baseball cap stood up from the back.

"YO, Ginger Nut!" He roared with his crooked yellow teeth. A burst of laughter fills the bus, even the bus driver found it funny as I could hear him snorting like a pig. I roll my eyes and collapse onto an empty two-seater. Everywhere I go I'm given that nick-name, just because I have red bushy hair doen't mean I look like biscuit. I slide further down my seat until my knees are touching the chair in front of me. I suddenly jerk back as my knee screams in pain. Stupid tarmac! The black stuff is now coated all over me. I start to pick the stones off my legs and get lost in track of time.

If it wasn't for my mother's death eight years ago I wouldn't be on this stupid bus, or in a new country, or on land. If my mother was alive I'd be locked away in our underwater palace in our underwater kingdom, and I'd be perfectly happy by that. My mother was the Queen of the Atlantic Ocean, she married a lord from the Pacific Ocean. Simple enough. They had children and BOOM! I came along with seven sisters and eight brothers, who I hate. I'm the youngest out of all, also known as the most sensitive. The rest are all still in the Atlantic Kingdom living their lives while I'm stuck here with Dad in a place called America.

My mother died on a boating trip we had. I was very young at the time, too young. I still get nightmares of the incident, not all the time if I'm lucky, but usually I would wake up screaming. Like this morning.

Why am I going to America? The Atlantic Ocean is in war with the Pacific Ocean, I have to stay on land where it is 'safe', and my dad thinks that America is the place. So, here I am getting my first bus journey... ever, and I'm not quite enjoying it. Are bus journeys always really like this?

"RIGHT! Everyone get OFF!" The bus driver howls, waking me to my senses. Everyone is clambering off out of their seats, pushing each other over trying to get past. As I stand up I have to wait there awkwardly as everyone shifts past.

"Look, we've got an orangutan in our school!" The guy in baseball cap sings. His monkey like mates high five each other, one of them I see miss and accidentally slap their faces instead, they turn away awkwardly and decide to hide behind the rest of the pack pretending that didn't happen. Once they got off I slipped out as quietly as possible.

"Ha, Ginger Nut!" The bus driver snorted under his low rusty breath. I decide to ignore him and hop off the steps with my hobbling knee. The door squeezes shut behind me. The bus pops with a rusty start and then skids down the dusty road covering me in more dirt. I thought the tarmac was bad... now look at me.

The people that stand before me cringe in laughter and mutter "Freak" to each other. If only they knew who I am, then who would be laughing now. I fix my beanie hat and dust some dirt off. Right... here goes nothing. I take a deep breath and look at the scene in front of me. A long stretch of grass with a straight gravel path runs to a huge white Georgian looking building. It looks like someone has placed a park right in front of the school with trees sprouting everywhere and dumped brown musty park benches hiding in secret places under the shade. The place is packed with students all in their own tribes. I take my first steps and walk down the cement stairs that lead onto the gravel path which brings you up to the school. Everyone stares at me as I do myself the best I can to not to trip up. Some people throw insults at me with more ginger jokes, others throw dirty looks. I hug myself and keep looking down as I walk towards the huge wooden doors. As I grab for the door handle something hits the back of my head. I turn around and see the guy in the baseball cap again hollering at me.

"Ooh yeah!" He booms throwing his fist in the air. All his mates jump around each other in glee slapping each others' backs. What is that guys' problem? Seriously! I look down to see that it was an orange juice carton he threw at me. Typical. My hand reaches my hair and already it's completely coated in stickiness. I throw the door open and march in. I don't get it! Why do people make fun of red-heads? I just don't get it. I have no idea where the toilets are put I'm going to find them somehow and clean myself up. I glance at my watch: 8.43. I still have some time to make myself presentable.

After many turns and dead-ends I finally reach the door with a lady sign and a big, bold title that says "TOILETS" above. I fling the door open and head straight to the mirror, it takes a flash of a look until I realize how much filth I have on me. I seriously thought the sea pollution was bad, but how humans treat the land seems a lot worse. I turn on the taps full blast and wash my hair and face completely until there's no piece of grime left. I head to the hand-drier and place head underneath and wait until my hair is dry. My clothes are the major problem, it looks like i've been dumped in a rubbish tip. How am I possibly going to fix this? I check my watch to see how much time I have left: 8.52. Eight minutes! Maybe the office would have some? I have to go there anyway for my timetable. I go for a hunt down the hallway seeking every corner. At last I find a little glass window with "OFFICE: WELCOME TO STARSTRUCK HIGH!" written above. I knock on the window and wave at the receptionist. The receptionist is a short plump lady who strikingly looks exactly like a pig or a wart-hog with her sweaty and greasy pink skin and wild busy black hair tied back with a bandanna, little streaks of grey hair dangle out in front her fore-head getting caught by her ruby red spiky glaces. The one thing that disturbs me the most is the huge hairy mole on the side of her grubby chin, which I can't seem do help but stare at.

"What do you want?" Her grouchy voice makes me jump and I look at her beetle black eyes instead.

"I- uh?" Is all I can get out, never had I seen a more hideous beast.

"Well get on with it!" She spits her yellow gum into the metal bin beside her, unfortunately I had the sight of seeing a bit of dribble dangle from her chin as she spitted. She wipes it off with her hand and sniffs (more like snorts).

"Is there any spare clothes I can borrow?" I say as sweetly as I can.

"What size?" She grumbles.


"HA! Trying to show off skinny?" She snorts unpleasantly, "Yeah, I've your eight... hold on a minute." The woman hobbles off and out the back door. I check my watch another time: 8:55. OH MY FISH! This beast of a woman better hurry up.

The receptionist finally returns after what seems like years. "Here you go Missy. Now scatter! I missed my smoke break because of you!" She dumps the pile of clothes in my arms and slouches towards the back door again.

"Um, excuse me, Miss. I need my timetable too!", the woman turns and gives me a dirty look.

"You new here?" She huffs, folding her arms.

"Yes, Miss." I say quietly. Although she isn't a teacher I still feel incredibly threatened by her.

"What's your name?"

"Scarlett Rosette" I say with proud, then I remembered she has no idea who I really am. The receptionist opens a filing cabinet and lifts a puss yellow folder out with her stubby red fingers. She flicks through it and pulls out a small piece of paper in the shape of a rectangle. She hands it over to me.

"Here you go, princess. You better not lose it, other wise you have to pay 50p for another one."

"Thank you!" I say with glee.

"Don't. Now leave! I'm not doing anymore favours for you!" She trots to the door and slams it behind her with a packet of cigarettes in her hand.

I race down the hallway running as fast as I can to reach the toilets once again. I burst in through the doorway and lock myself in one of the cubicles. I drop the clothes to the newly polished tiles. A dark green plain T-Shirt and a pair of blue faded jeans. Not to bad, it could be worse. I pull the clothes on as fast as I can possibly can. Just as I open the cubicle I jump to the sound of the bell: 9.00. Jeez that is loud! I look at my timetable. Form Class, room 202. Great, how am I going to find that? I could hear the school come to life, full of voices after Christmas break. I walk out of the toilets to find the hallway completely swimming with people. My eyes widen as there is barely any air to breathe or room to move. Instead I get dragged along by the people beside me. I don't even have to move my feet because the force is so big. To pass the time I try to gain lock with all the room numbers above the doors: 56, 80, 97. The 200s must be upstairs.

Just in time I see the stairs going up. I push myself forward frantically flowing with some of the crowd. I grab the railing and heave myself up. It's a bit calmer up here, but not much. I climb up the stairs and make it onto second floor. I brush past the long hallway: 105, 124, 140. This must be all the 100s. I sigh as I have to find another fleet of stairs. I scramble through the stampede of students until I found the second lot of stairs. YES!!!!!! I sprint up the steps squishing between other students that are trying to do the same as me. 200, 201, 202. I thought I'd never find it. I push the door open as it squeaks for me to enter. I peep my head through the crack to see a balding man in a green and brown woollen jumper with a pair of thick glasses in mid-speech about not doing graffiti on the priciple's car this term, until I came along to interrupt him.

"Why Hello there, Miss! I see we've got a new student in our class, people." He waves for me to come in. I shuffle past the door and fidget with my hands as I enter. "You must be Miss Rosette. Class, may I introduce Scarlett: Our new class member!"

Awkwardly the man claps by himself whilst grinning like a nine year old in a chocolate factory. And then there was the awkward cough from someone in the back of the class. "Go take a seat over there!" He points a long crumpled finger at a single desk at the back of the class beside one of the tall windows.

I walk as gracefully as I can down to my desk and slither into my chair.

"Now where was I? Oh, yes! Don't dip the rubbish into the bins! It is extremely horrible to clean up, especially when the toilet hasn't been flushed and there's a log in there." He makes a disgusted face and sits down in his deep blue spinney chair.

Form Class is amazingly long for twenty minutes.The teacher, whose name I learnt is 'Mr. Pickle' - which is the weirdest name I've heard of - called out the register, went through the school rules and school times. After that everyone chatted amongst themselves, instead of socialising I just daydreamed about what I'd be doing if I was still in our palace.

The bell went off and yet again made me jump with a startle. "Now class, walk out quietly!... Josh is that gum?" Mr Pickle went on scolding the class as they left the room. I looked at my timetable sheet: Mathematics. NOOO!! The worst subject I'm at! I shifted through the hall of many people and made my way to hell.

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