Living A Fake Life (Slowly Editing)

Chapter 1 {REWRITTEN}

Okay guys, so I have decided to edit my first couple of chapters. I am not quite pleased with them so I will be rewriting them when I have the time. New scenes may be added. I will put {rewritten} on the chapters I have finished. If you are planning on reading this please be forewarned. (Editing might be slow)

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Before you start please know that I started this book when I was 13 so my writing was really bad. As you read, you will be able to notice that it does improve though, and that's why I have to edit some chapters at the beginning.

If you will not be able to stand a couple of horrid and maybe clique chapter I understand, but if you can then trust me it gets better.

I have grow a lot as a writer and if you would like to read a better piece of writing from me I have many other stories on my page.

If you do stick around I very much hope you enjoy my story.

~Chapter 1 Rewritten Version~ * EDITED*

I laid in bed with my tear-soaked face squashed onto one of my throw pillows. The reason for my melancholy behavior was simple; my parents had arranged for me to get married to a complete and utter stranger. They seemed to think that at the ripe age of twenty-two, I still needed my life planned out by them. They didn't understand that I was mature enough to choose a potential husband to settle down with and start a future of my own. My parents still treated me like a child—most likely having to do with the fact that I was an only child all my life.

I lifted my head from the white pillow to be greeted with tear stains and mascara streaks all over it. I didn't care if I made a mess with my tears; it was the last thing I was worrying about at the moment.

I stood up from my bed and walked to my vanity's mirror. I looked like a complete mess. My blue eyes had become puffy red, and my brunette locks looked like I had just got into a brawl with an animal twice my size. I was too emotional, even for my own good.

To my even greater luck, my eyes began to burn due to mascara making its way into my eyeballs. I needed to wash my face.

As I was about to head into my ensuite to freshen up, my phone began to buzz on the floor from where I had thrown it previously. My mother had thought that the best way to tell me I was going to be a married woman in short span of time was by sending me an fyi your engaged text.

I dragged myself over to pick it up, but when I read the name on the screen my face scrunched in disdain. It was my mother again. I debated whether or not to answer the witch of the west. Did I want to hear her cheery voice? Was I up for the headache that was already starting by just viewing her name on my iPhones screen.

I reluctantly answered the call and soon began to regret it once I heard her voice chime with glee on the other side.

"Darling, I'm so glad you answered! I was starting to worry," my mother's voice rang.

"Why are you calling? You've done enough damage already," I uttered with irritation. I knew it was disrespectful to talk to her in that tone, but I didn't give a damn at that moment.

"Well, I planned for you to meet your future husband tonight. He will be coming over at around nine, so put on the dress that I left in your room earlier today and make sure to bring your manners along with you.

"Your dad and I had a business dinner tonight, so just please be on your best behavior for us. Your father and I only want what's best for you! Marrying you off to the very successful son of one of your dad's old friends is a great way of making sure you have an amazing future."