Stephanies Story

Stephanie thinks shes an ordinary girl in a ordinary world. But not everything is as it seems... (I'm open to opinions on this story, good or bad :) )


1. Race Against Time

"Hey I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's my number so call me mayb-" BANG! `I hate Carly Rae Jepsen in the morning and I mean HATE!' I thought as I looked at my smashed alarm radio in pieces on the floor. ‘Merh, I'll have to fix that later. Silence? Finally... All peaceful in the Drake household…’ "STEPHANIE JESSICA DRAKE GET YOUR ARSE OUT OF BED NOW! "Great peace disturbed," i sighed loudly, another day full of screaming and yelling... "I'll be right there Josh, give me a few fucking minutes to wake up douche bag!" I try to say as calmly as possible, I think I hate my big brother more than I hate call me maybe in the morning... I'm not a morning person you see... "CMON Steph! We are going to miss the bus!" WHAT? It can't be... I can't of oversle- my thoughts raced out my mind as fast as they were there, as I looked at the clock. 7:45, I'm screwed! "Oh merde! 5 minutes to get to the bus, get ready and have breakfast?!" Wait don't I do this practically everyday? Wake up late, get to school in time for tutor... "I'm leaving with or without you Steph, you have 2 minutes!" Okay,okay jeez! I run and grab my bag full of random papers and books, chuck my phone and headphones in and zip it up, "1 minute 30 seconds left..." I quickly put my undershirt, jet black trousers and black converse on, and as I swing my bedroom door open. I almost collide into Mr long brown hair, blue eyed douche bag of a brother who thinks he's all badass coz he's in sixth form... "20 secon- finally! We have 3 minutes to catch the bus... Where's your shirt and tie?" He says gazing down at me, with a massive grin on his face.
"Long story, I'll get them from my locker at school okay?" I hold the staring match between us before he breaks it off. "Whatever, but we have to leave now" he says concerned.
"Now who are we waiting for?" I grin at him while he gives me a dirty look.


As we walk to the bus stop -just down the street from our home- it is very awkward and too quite... Especially for Josh. "So, erm how did you sleep?" I ask quietly, but I get no reply. "Erm okay then..." As we turn the corner where we can see the bus stop, there is a long queue like always with all the different social groups: the chavs; trousers down to their ankles, the slags who put way too much make up on, plus make their faces look like their parents were oranges. Most of them are really nice…to your face, the indie kids whom seem to be okay, but only really like their people and don't take others opinions, the rockers who everyone thinks -but its fact really- are quite cool, the young nerds who have their top buttons done up and ties really long. Where the heck do I fit? I guess I’m a smart weirdo kid, basically an older version of a nerd, who loves music, animals and just hanging out, none of this funny business of drugs or whatever; there are only so many things I can tolerate.


As we arrive at the bus stop, my brother leaves me on my own to go to his friends. "Oh okay then, bye!" Twat. I have a look around, anyone here I know? Nope, such a loner but what do I expect?! Everyone is in some sort of uniform, if it's trousers, tight skirts or leggings, they all have shirts and ties on apart from me... Great forgot my blazer too, its supposed to be summer but it's still as cold as Narnia when the white witch was queen! The next thing I know, I'm shivering as the bus comes shooting around the corner like a bullet out of a gun. Everyone starts to get on the bus, taking their normal spots. I go upstairs in the middle and search through my bag for my phone and headphones, then put on my favourite playlist of : Olly Murs, Michael Bublé, MCR, MSI, Avril Lavigne and The Midnight Beast. Then casually put it on full blast for the next half an hour journey to school to block out the chaotic world around me.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...