Sam's P.O.V
Sam Thompson ambled down the street she lived, slowly approaching her house, whistling. Her black top made her look like a gangster – the opposite of what she was. Her normal side usually showed she was shy, timid person. Who said little but got very good grades in school. And then, there was her wild side…
Sam arrived home. She shut the door very, very quietly so that she could upstairs without being noticed by her mother in kitchen. Her mother would always ask her to feed her little, 3-year-old brother, Mikey when she got back from school in England.
Now I just need to make it past the kitchen and then my butt is saved, she thought whilst checking to see that the coast is clear.
Sam's mother hadn't noticed her but Mikey did. As if understanding what Sam was trying to avoid, he said nothing. He always hated being fed.
When Sam finally snuck into the room, the first thing she saw was a small, orange hexagon box.
When she opened it she gasped in awe: the most beautiful necklace sat there, untouched. She instantly tried it on. She wasn't ready for what happened next.
An orange blur whizzed around the room for ten seconds before stopping all this while Sam was a little confused and very scared.
No longer moving, the orange blur seemed to be some magical fairy that looked like a fox. Sam had one hand on the door about to make a run for it. She was a pale as snow.
"W-wait! Don't go! My name is Feeby and I'm a kwami," it (or maybe it was a 'she') explained.
"What's a kwami?" Sam questioned, now more intrigued than scared at this point. Feeby sighed, this explanation was going to take long.