Hi there! This is my first story on here, and this first chapter is going to be quite boring, but I do already have the next two chapters written. I will have those up as soon as I can. Let me know what you think. I'm always open to suggestions and criticism. Also, I am American, so I apologize in advance for my lack of knowledge of British things, sayings, news, etc.

I don't own anything, except for Norah, my OC.

I gripped my countertop to steady myself as I walked into my bathroom and I snuck a glance at my disheveled appearance. In one fluid motion, I was able to seat myself on the cold tile with my arms wrapped around my legs. While absentmindedly tracing the natural lines in the wood with my fingernail, I thought.

I was a nineteen-year-old American girl, living in the state of Arizona. My parents brought me into this world, gave me the name Norah, raised me in a loving home, and now it was them who were pressuring me to move out.

Although I was distressed with the thought of leaving home, I knew they were right. My hometown was too small for me and I didn't want to spend the rest of my life working at the bowling alley I had gotten a job at when I was 16. My parents wanted me to go to college, but I was unsure what I would want to study towards, nevertheless where.

I stood up from my seated position and walked into my room. Although it was a smaller room, I had somehow managed to make it appear even more cramped with the amount of rubbish I had tossed around. I had been too preoccupied with my predicament to care about the state of my room, and after a week of my unfocused mind, my room looked as though a tornado swept through.

I moved a pile of clothing from my chair and extracted my laptop from my backpack. The desk was covered in books, but I found a clear space to place my laptop. I accessed my social networks and looked at an earlier post, in which I asked my friends and family for advice.

'If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you go and why?'

I had gotten expected advice:

-'California: it has the best weather, hottest chicks, and gnarly waves.'

-'Australia, because kangaroos.'

-Italy or France, 'omg the food'/'omg the accents'

But none of these places appealed to me. I pushed my chair back and massaged my palms into my eyelids as stars began to revolve around the dark space. When I heard the click of a notification, my eyes flew open to the sound.

-'Deary, you should really consider London. London is absolutely lovely, especially around this time of year. Although the chill drives me up the wall, it's better than the dreadful heat you live in, and you'll get to spend time with your favorite aunt ;) You can stay in my building, as long as you don't mind occupying a basement flat.'

Hmmm. London. I hadn't even thought of the idea. I began to research the London area. It was beautiful; I couldn't deny that. The native language was English, but would I be able to adapt to a new culture? The schooling system appeared to be much more sophisticated than ours and it seemed fairly easy to obtain a student visa if I needed too.

I closed my laptop and sat on my chair for a beat, preparing myself for the oncoming slew of questions from my parents. I walked from my room into theirs, taking refuge on the couch at the end of their bed, which was occupied by the two of them, watching TV.

"I think I'm going to move to London."

My mother reached for the remote and muted the TV with a look of concentration on her face. Instead of her beginning the conversation, my father spoke first, with his British accent. "Are you sure that's where you'd like to live? You aren't just doing this because of me, right?" My father's desire to move back to his England home isn't much of a secret.

"No, it just seems like the most logical place to move. I've gone through the pros and cons of London and many other places. There are plenty of jobs I can get out there and London has some of the best universities I could attend. I believe I would actually really love to move there, even if it's only temporary. Aunt Martha even said there is an open flat in her building that I can rent."

My parents shared a glance and my mother's mouth broke into a smile. "And you're sure, darling? London is a difficult place to live. I was only there for a year and although that's when I met your father, it was still a quite difficult year. We're more than willing to help you. We've been saving up for your future since you were born and we're ecstatic to hear a plan forming."

I smiled. "Yes, I'm pretty sure this is what I want to do. I just need to make sure this is do-able."

My dad offered to call my Aunt Martha for me in the morning, but I declined. "I want to try to organize everything by myself. It's about time I started being independent."

My parents agreed and they seemed very excited for me. After fine-tuning my idea, we were able to change my 'pretty sure' into an 'I'm moving to London and I can't wait.' Because my father is from England, and in the off chance that my mother ever let him uproot our family, he had already gotten me dual citizenship.

I walked back into my room and exhaled a sigh of relief. I knew what direction my life was headed. I laid down on my bed and made a mental note to begin the tedious task of packing, after calling Aunt Martha of course. I fell right to sleep and dreamed of all the possibilities London could give me.