A/N: This is the beginning of my first multi-chaptered story. Lady Pearlfrost here, your guide/authoress for this story, remember read and most importantly, review.

Prologue

The Gray Side

Alright, time to put my nervous fidgeting to good use.

My name is Juliet Damson. Fifteen years of age, sixteen in June, I was diagnosed at the tender age of nine with OCD and avid paranoia.

My parental units are Michael and Elaine Damson, My dad (Professor Damson to some) is an American writer/Night Professor. He is forever thinking up silly word games, spouting Shakespeare, and ruffling my hair.

Besides the hair ruffling, (it takes an hour of careful brushing to get it back to normal afterwards) he's pretty okay for a dad.

He is also the one that named me. You know Juliette Capulet? Well I'm just Juliet.

My mom, Elaine Damson is a Canadian botanist; my mother is the most absentminded woman on Earth. If not for me, there'd be dirt on the table, rare fungi curling around the banister, mushrooms sprouting from the ceiling, and huge vases of mixed flowers obstructing every possible walking path in and outside our house.

Not to mention how our yard would look if I didn't rake weekly.

I used to live in Vancouver, until my grandmother passed away. I still miss both her and Vancouver, the wet winters, the hot chocolate in our cozy little home.

After Grandma's death my parents decided that it was time for a change of scenery and a new start. So they moved us from Canada to Charleston, West Virginia. Well until recently, at least for me.

You see I had a little incident in class one day. (No not that type of incident.) My pencil moved for the fourth time that day. I know, I know, you're thinking "Wait, this girl freaks out because of a pencil?" I just need to have everything prefect because of my OCD.

Plus it's not the first time that happened. I'll move stuff, turn around and then turn back and the item will have moved! It irks me to no end. I tried telling my parents but they said it was just my mind playing tricks on me.

I'm pretty sure that their way of telling me I'm crazy.

Shortly after The Incident I received a letter telling me that I had been accepted to The Windmere Academy for Diagnosed and Very Troubled Teenaged Boys and Girls, my parents were overjoyed and said that this was a wonderful chance to for me to start over.

I suspect they just said this because they are high tailing it to England to work and this is a wonderful opportunity for them to have some them time. So the school is in Oregon and I'm flying there to enroll and learn. While my parents are going to England to enrich themselves and get inspiration for my dad's new book and my mom's going to hopefully discover some new flora to document.

But that's not even the worst part; I don't even get to decide for myself.

What would you decide? Crazy boarding school or England, Crazy boarding school or England, gee it's such a hard choice. I not going to fit in here and I know I sound like some non-grateful bratty teenager but I won't! People like me aren't meant to fit in polite society. Well okay, I've survived so far, but who's to say that this school is going to be the worst thing that has ever happened to me.

I suppose that should also look on the bright side and think of this as a good thing, a good thing for me, my parents, and most importantly me.

Cause I'm the one that going to have to deal if this school doesn't work out.

Okay, maybe I'll look on the gray side. The "at least I'm not going to be the most abnormal" side mixed with the "do you have any idea what kind of people you'll be associating with?" side.

The gray side, I like the sound of that.

A/N: And prologue re-edited for hopefully the last time.

Your reviews are appreciated

-Lady Pearlfrost.

Edited on 1/18/13