Well, the name is EnonymousUser, and I am very new to this fanfiction universe! Please, hold the applause *cricket noises*…tough crowd... Anyways, this is my very first story, so yeah :P. This has been on my mind for a while and I just decided to write it; I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own the KND…

Why?

By EnonymousUser

Today is Friday, 3 o'clock in the afternoon, well, 3:01 to be exact; it is a lovely day. The birds are singing, the trees are dancing with the wind and the children's laughter echo in the air. All was peaceful…yeah right. I am currently busy moving my heavy, dull, brown boxes into the new house my father had purchased two months ago; let me tell you, this isn't fun. I lifted each box one by one, up the stairs and into the new bedroom I've chosen to live in from now on. I keep repeating this annoying process and somehow, I blame myself for my teenage ways on packing large quantities of boxes. Well, I am to blame in the first place, but you didn't need to know that.

After twenty excruciating minutes, I finally hauled the last box into the room; feeling lazy, I dropped it carelessly on the floor and tumble on the bed. The sweat beads run down my forehead cooling me, but at the same time make me feel all sweaty. I could feel the stickiness of my skin and the shirt's light blue cotton fabric. Fanning myself, I sat up and looked around my surroundings. Not much, just a normal sized room for my normal self, but the irony in all this is that I am not. In fact, I am the most unusual person you will ever come across, but I'll save the boring information for later on.

Anyways, back to my room; everything is the perfect shade of pale-turquoise on all sides of the wall. The ceiling is white and the floor is covered with Aurora tiles in every inch of the room not missing a spot. My bed is Queen Size –don't ask why, with light blue covers and two fluffy pillows to top it all off. I have some tall, black contemporary display shelves around my room and they seem pretty cool; gives a modern feel which is unusual for a teenage girl. See what I mean? I don't put posters of my favorite band or singer; I'm just not like that. Instead, I fill my room with books and more books. The closet is to the right of my bed which has two full length mirrors. Its closet doors slide and inside are where I put my shoes or sweaters; I have a dark brown drawer on the down-left corner where I put my personal things. I also have a nightstand and my Mac computer. I'm not much of a TV person, not when you have YouTube. All and all, I guess my room has a welcome feel to it, too bad I don't feel welcome. Not here anyways. I want to go back home in New York City, but no. We moved here in Virginia because of my father and his job. Curse his job, but I should feel more grateful.

Not.

I, Amelia Leto, am the unluckiest child in the world. Scratch that. Universe. From now on, I will live my life in misery and despair. Sigh. Wait a minute; is that a…tree house?

My mom told me to wash up and get ready; apparently we are going to meet with the neighbors next door from us, so I did what I was told. Putting on my black Converse sneakers, dark denim blue jeans and a plaid red shirt, I headed downstairs. I made sure I had my iPod with me since that little thing is my LIFE. Mom was just dusting off some dirt (which he doesn't have to start) from my little brother's white shirt. She said something about first impressions, but I could care less. Dad comes so we head out the door and into the gray pavement; I walk slow and put my headphones inside my ears. I let the smooth music engulf me and make me forget about the world that surrounds me. I love music; it's a way to express myself quietly; if I'm happy, I listen to some energetic music like techno. If I just want to be left alone, maybe I'll listen to some Fall Out Boy or Panic At The Disco. My music tastes are quite different; I don't stick to one genre, this is how I judge music: if it's alright, fine with me. If it just sucks…just go. Kind of weird, but that's just me.

I didn't notice that I was way behind and saw the rest of my family near the door; I pick up my speed and ran up the two steps and stop. Dad sees I'm here and rings the doorbell; I shut off the iPod and place it in my pocket. I kind of grew impatient since no one was bothering to answer the door. Either no one is home or they are scared/hate us. The second one seems reasonable…

Well, it wasn't long before the door open to reveal a short, slightly cubby woman who looked like to be in her mid-thirties. She had red hair that was spiked at the ends and stopped just above her shoulder; she was wearing a long sleeved, pink shirt, with some blue looking sweater, a green belt and a skirt that reached below the knees; she also had some black flats.

"Why hello there! You must be the new neighbors; my name is Amanda Uno, but you may call me Mrs. Uno" spoke Mrs. Uno; her voice had a sweet honey tone to it that made even strangers feel welcomed. My parents smiled and so did I, she then welcomed us inside; I went in, step by step, making the floor moan in pain with my weight on top. A large man, with bushy eyes that cover his eyes (literally), hair that was just only at his sides of the head and a heavy mustache, came out of the kitchen and introduces himself. He said his name was Monty Uno; he had this raspy, thick voice which can be spoken in many different ways. It can range from being a caring, warm voice, to it becoming deep with rage. Mom and dad introduce themselves with my younger brother; I, on the other hand, introduce myself.

"Name's Amelia Leto, Mr. and Mrs. Uno." I flashed them a warm smile in politeness and they returned it as well.

"I see you have a son, we also have a son around his age. Maybe they should get to know each other." suggested Mrs. Uno.

"I think that's a wonderful idea!" agreed my mom, lucky him. At least he has a boy around his age to play with, but I make friends without my parents' help, so I don't mind at all. Mr. Uno called for his son and I jumped from the loudness of his voice. Such a deep voice; two minutes later, a boy with a large red sweater, gray shorts, brown boots and sunglasses, came downstairs.

"What is it dad? I'm in a middle of an important meeting, so this better be a good explanation." He said in an annoyed, British, tone; he obviously wasn't annoyed and he didn't bother to acknowledge our presence. Mrs. Uno placed an arm around his shoulder and pulled him next to her.

"Oh Nigel! You can go play with your friends in a moment, but your father and I want to introduce you to the new neighbors." she gestured us kindly to him; this boy, who is Nigel, eyed each and every one of us, but held his eye on me the most. Almost suspiciously as if I'm some sort of criminal. I moved uncomfortably under his gaze and looked anywhere but him; for a ten year old boy, he's pretty intimidating. He looked at my brother and softens his gaze and waved at him. My brother smiled and said a hello so low, that not even the wind could pick it up.

"Well isn't this sweet." intervene my dad; my mom nodded her head in agreement. Mrs. Uno looks at the time and it reads 6:27; time passes quickly here I guess. We said our goodbyes and Nigel smiled at everyone, but gave me a fake smile. I just waved and nodded at his direction before turning around and walking out the door. I think that boy likes me…

Eh, that's the end of chapter one. So, do you hate it, love, admire it, want to throw it in a fireplace? Please, any criticism is welcome!

EnonymousUser