Author: MusicDoll1155 PM
Victoria Straud is not your typical rich girl. She is insecure and doesn't wear any designer outfits she's a klutz. Worst of all, she has no friends. Until the day she meets her picture perfect puppy. But will she meet something ormaybe someone else on the way?Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Family/Friendship - Words: 1,135 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 08-09-12 - id: 3049219
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
My name's Victoria Straud, I'm 15 years old and I live in Maine. I've never really fit in too well. Not that I act strangely or I look very different, well I guess it is because I act strangely. I'm extremely insecure; I won't go to a public pool without wearing shorts and a tee over my bathing suit. One evening on the hottest day of summer I wore sweats to a lake. I guess I realized how bad people judge others in the world that I'm afraid to be judged. If I don't wear much I'm a slut, if I wear too much I'm a slob. Aside from my low self-esteem I'm the typical teen. I shop, I like chocolate, I read romance novels (mostly about angels and vampires), and I have crushes. None at the moment, but that's only because school's not in session. It's mid-August and I'm packing for my third trip this summer, this week we're going to Australia. Oh, I forgot to mention one little thing. You see, my dad owns this major company called 'Swifts', and my mom is a big-time selling fashion designer. So from gathering all that I'm kind of rich. And by rich I mean 5-story mansion with 2 Jacuzzi's and indoor and outdoor pool, a huge backyard, a chef's kitchen and 4 bathrooms. I know what you're thinking? Spoiled much? What about pets? Honestly, I'm not spoiled. Sure I get more for Christmas and for my birthday but I'd give that up for just one friend. Yup, rich girl got no friends. All I am at school is the smart insecure chick in the back. I am not your typical rich girl, the ones you see on T.V like London Tipton or Legally Blonde they're one type of rich. They only have one thing in common and that's etiquette and class. I'm the most klutzy person in ninth grade. I have manners such as the usual 'please' and 'thank you' and I don't make rude comments. The thing is, besides my klutzy skills, I don't own anything fancy, the most expensive thing I own may be all of my books put together. My clothes range from jeans and sweats. I don't own any blouses or skirts or any designer clothing. Personally I don't like wearing make-up, and I don't know any big brands, other than MAC but that's because mom uses it. And for the pets I actually own a parrot named 'Chats' because he talks whenever somebody's in the room. My other pet I have is a piglet named 'schnozzle' because she has the cutest nose ever! It' the perfect oval and it's soft and plushy. Though the animal I've been dying to own a puppy. Yeah that's the girly girl in me coming out. But I don't want a Chihuahua or a toy sized Yorky Terrier, I'm not sure what I want yet.
"Vicky!" My mom hollered from her chambers.
"Coming!" I shouted back. I stretched my arms and my legs.
"Vicky, Vicky." Chats repeated flapping it's wings.
"Hey Chats, what's going on?" I asked filling its food bowl.
"Hungry." I chuckled as it pecked his food away. I threw on my bathrobe over my shorts and sweater and went to my mom's bedroom. I lightly knocked on the door and slightly opened it to see my mom sitting in front of her vain dresser applying what looked like moist lipstick...lip gloss perhaps.
"Uh mom?" I asked hesitantly.
"Mom, I thought we agreed on Victoria."
"Anyway," she began ignoring my previous comment, "are you ready? You're father has the car ready." I nodded my head and she grabbed her Prada bag as we headed down the flights of stairs. We stepped into the garage and I see my father has picked his favourite vehicle to travel with an Abarth Monotipo 1998. A bit show-offy I know, but it's very uncomfortable being squished to the right hand side. But I ignored that today, for today I'm getting my first puppy! I know I'm thinking like a 10 year old but I just can't help it. The car slowly stopped and my car door swung open, leaving me on the hard concrete. My head ached and I felt a harsh pinch on the lower right side of my back.
"You O.K Sugar Plum?" Sugar plum was what my father called me, only because I loved watching that Barbie movie. It's embarrassing when he calls me that in public, another reason why I don't fit in.
"Yeah, fine." I muttered holding my thudding head.
"Awweh! Look at all these cuties!" My mom said at the metal wired fence that separated us from the floppy eared dogs. "Cocker Spaniel." My mom read from the sign. I bent down and stuck my index finger out through the hole. A cocker (what they call a small Cocker Spaniel) brushed his damp nose against it.
"C'mon, let's take a look inside." My father instructed already walking indoors.
"Let's!" My mom looped her arm through mine and led me inside. When we walked indoors there was a lady behind a large counter reaching at the bottom of her chin.
"Hello, where can we find the pups?" My father asked lacing his hands on top of the desk.
"Just through that corridor." She informed us pointing her finger behind her. Beside the overly large desk was a hallway that, I presume, led to the puppies.
"I hear barking." My mother squealed clutching her Prada bag, what she usually does when she's nervous. My dad opened the blue single door for mom and I.
"Oh my..." I whispered observing the multiple stacks of cages.
"They are so cute!" My mom squeaked and ran to each cage baby talking to the different breeds. I didn't know where to begin so I jogged to the end. The first one I saw was an American Bulldog, it was sleeping but every once and a while it would bark quietly in its sleep. The one after was a Chihuahua running around in circles trying to catch its tail.
"Sugar plum look at this one!" My dad was at a cage 2 aisles over. Inside lay a toy puppy poodle.
"OmiGod!" I exclaimed. "Dad get me the key please." I instructed him, he came back with a small rusted navy blue key. I twirled it inside the lock when I heard a click. The glass holed door slowly opened it and I lifted the poodle.
"Does it have a name?" Mom asked catching up to us.
"Nope," my dad replied resting his hand on my shoulder.
"Well what do you think Vick?" She asked rubbing the top of its head gently.
"I think it's the one..." I whispered clutching it closer to my heart.