I DO NOT OWN KANE CHRONICLES.
HEY GUYS! I DECIDED TO RE-WRITE POWERFUL PEOPLE INTO THIS, A MOST LIKELY BETTER FAN FICTION THAN THE OTHER ONE. SAME CHARACTERS, PLOT AND SETTING FOR EACH CHAPTER, BUT BETTER WRITING STYLE. WHEN I AM ALREADY DONE WITH CHAPTER 10, I WILL DELETE THE OTHER ONE. I HAVE DECIDED THAT ANNA'S LIFE IS A BIT VAGUE, SO I DECIDED TO ADD SOMETHING TO IT. THE FIRST CHAPTER OF POWERFUL PEOPLE WILL START IN THE NEXT CHAPTER. SO, IF YOU LIKE THIS ONE BETTER, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!
ANNA'S POV
Hi, my name's Anna. If you're listening to this, it means you're not normal. Whether it's good or bad, it depends on the way you see it. In Carter and Sadie's last recording, they said it would be their last, but they were wrong. If possible, it was the beginning of something bigger. But before I get too ahead of myself, I'll start at the start. The start being, at my new school.
My parents, Marie and Howard Sunter, are both important to their workplaces. My mom, Marie, is a doctor, head of the most important part of the hospital: the medicine. She oversees which medicine goes to which patient. And, she has patients of her own to worry about. I don't know what kind of doctor she is, but I never bothered to ask her. If ever I ask her, she will obviously say a name of a kind of doctor that I don't know about, and go on to explaining how she got the job, why she got the job, what the job is about, and other stuff I don't really care about. I never bothered to ask her the name of the workplace either, because she will tell me the name of the hospital, the history of the hospital, how many doctors there are in the hospital, and so on and so forth. You get the idea.
My dad, Howard, is a lawyer. He is also the head of probably the most important part of his office too, but I don't bother to ask him either. My mom and dad are different. When I ask mom stuff, she answers the question, and adds stuff that I didn't ask, and don't want to know about. My dad, on the other hand, answers the question, that's all. Doesn't say anything else. Sometimes he doesn't answer at all.
My mom has short, light brown hair, dark brown eyes, and most of the time wears dresses. My dad has salt and pepper hair, brown eyes, and dresses in plaid shirts and formal shoes. My parents always come home late. But on one particular Tuesday, they were home early. My family lived in Manhattan. On my way home from school, I passed by the usual things I pass by. Stores, townhouses, people beating each other up. Yep, just another normal Tuesday here on Mango Street. I turned a corner and saw my house. It was nothing fancy. Just a normal house in Manhattan. I walked inside, ready to do my usual routine. Put bag on the couch, go upstairs to room, take a bath, change into home clothes, study, and other stuff. I was done with step one, and was on my way to doing step two, until I noticed that the kitchen lights were on. Unless my idiot of a little sister was making a sandwich, or my parents were home. Hopefully, it was option 2. My little sister is seven years old, and is anything but neat. She has long, light brown hair, brown eyes, and I guess she's average height. She loves wearing dresses or skirts. I went into the kitchen and found my parents sitting down at the table, deep in conversation. My dad saw me first.
"Anna, come here please." He said. If my parents came home early, that's not a good sign. When it's something good, they tell it to us when they come home at their usual time. If it's bad or important, they come home right away. I made my way to my parents. I sat down at the table, looking from my dad to my mom. They both had serious expressions on their faces. My dad cleared his throat.
"Your mom and I have been thinking something over for some time." I didn't like where this was going. "And we have come to the conclusion to move to Brooklyn."
I felt like I have just been punched in the chest by an anvil. Brooklyn? I have spent practically my whole life here in Manhattan. We couldn't just move. I had friends here, and just when people were finally starting to respect me, my parents brought this up. I would miss so many things. This house, my friends, as much as I hate to admit it, school, everything. After all the things I have had to put up with, this won the Grand Prize. I wanted to scream, shout, do anything in my willpower to stop it. But I couldn't. It took me thirteen years to learn the hard truth. Whatever my parents say, goes, no matter how awful.
I just nodded my head. I had to be the good daughter. I had to be the respectful daughter. I had to be the understanding daughter. But most of all, I had to be the example of the family. I can't be the opposite. I can't be the irresponsible one. I had to do what my parents want me to do. I had to be what my parents want me to be. If I wanted to have friends over, fine. If I wanted to go to someone's house, fine. If I wanted a new laptop, fine. But, for my whole life, there was always a catch. I had to be the good daughter. My sister never had the pressure of doing this, because she wasn't old enough yet. She didn't understand anything yet. She wasn't mature enough yet. She never will be. I will always be the pressured one. I will always be the mature one. But most of all, I will always be the girl in school who always has to play by the rules. Some people respect me for that, so they befriend me, and when I am certainly sure that I can trust them, I tell them. And after I tell them, I don't look like the serious girl in school. I look like a miserable girl that will always have the big weight on her shoulders. The one who never tries to stand out. The one who never tries to look pretty like the other girls. I'll always be the weird girl in the corner that never brings attention to herself.
After I thought of all those things, realization dawned on me. I can start anew. I won't have to be the girl in the corner who never recites. I won't have to be the quiet girl in the hallway anymore. I can be someone new. I can be a new Anna Sunter.