Hey you guys! Here's the first chapter of the story.

First things first: I was still in a dilemma on whether to write in 1st-person POV or the 3rd-person POV. So if this chapter is bad, I'm truly sorry.
Secondly, I'm still looking for a beta-reader! Anyone willing to help me out here, I'll be grateful to you like how I am to sliced white bread. Mmm mmm.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia and everything that you've read in that magnificent series. I do however own the plot and OCs of this story.

Figured I'll do a disclaimer in case this is deleted for the lack of it.

Lastly, I'd love to thank Ac Colins and romantic. dreamer26 for their reviews. I wasn't actually expecting any, seeing as it was still the prologue.
Whatever whatever. Thank you two for reviewing, really! It motivates me to write more.

Do hope you guys like this chapter!

xx neoncrayons.

'Is there any reason not to sleep in today?'

That was the first thought that sprang to my mind when my senses were awake enough to comprehend my surroundings. You know how when you just woke up, and a word or a phrase springs to your mind almost immediately to tell you what your body was feeling while you were sound asleep? Or when your senses have finally awaken from their slumber and a thought pops right out of nowhere?

When I had awoken quite so suddenly that morning, the first thing I had wanted to do was to fall right back into dreamland. I was so comfortable and warmly nestled in my duvet that lifting my head up from the soft down feathered pillow felt like such a chore. It seemed as though there was an invisible force pushing me further into the soft cotton sheets, preventing me from getting out of bed and getting my Saturday started.

Despite the unexplainable want of nestling even further under the duvet and sleep my morning away, I willed myself to sit up from my bed and pried my eyes open finally. I grabbed my bolster from beside me and buried my tired face in it, taking a deep breath before I chucked it aside carelessly and stretched my legs out from the comforters and swung them over the edge of my bed.

The musky smell of rain greeted me when I pushed the white French balcony doors open and took in the sight of the foggy mist that still hung over the wet grass in the garden. My slipper-clad feet made squishy sounds against the wet floor as I made my way towards the metal fencing and proper my elbows on top of it. Closing my eyes, I mouthed the same words I had been whispering in my mind every morning since my tenth birthday, holding a flicker of hope in my heart that it will come true soon.

"Ah, awake already, I see."

"Good morning, Annie."

I smiled at the graying woman who was now holding a pile of fresh laundry before working over to where my MacBook was. It was a bad habit of mine to leave the laptop on through the night because then, I'd be able to play song the first thing next morning without having to wait for it to start up. While everybody else needed a steaming cup of hot coffee or a good breakfast to start his or her day off right, all I needed, was a random track off of my iTunes playlist. The starting melodies of 'A Whole New World' from the Aladdin movie flooded across the room, filling the air with its beautiful lyrics.

Annie walked over to my vanity chair and took the worn-out gray pullover that was always draped over it, before passing the comfortable piece of clothing to me.

"Best put on something warm, dear." She went on to make my bed. "It's rather cold this morning from the heavy rain last night. Bless you to have slept through all that thundering."

"I'm a heavy sleeper," I smiled sheepishly and pulled the outerwear over my head before throwing my tousled bed-hair up into a messy bun.

After I was done with my routine of washing-up, I grabbed my Blackberry Bold from my vanity table and proceeded downstairs, checking my mobile for unread text messages along the way. Not one to multi-task, I had to keep looking up from the lit screen to watch my steps incase I gave myself a bump on the head from tumbling down the stairs, like I did a week ago.

That spot was still rather sore, mind you.

My eyes caught the aged face of Theodore, our butler and as quietly as I could, I crept the rest of my way down and towards the old man, hoping to give him a scare as a morning greeting.

"Good morning, Miss Pixie," came the amused voice of the butler, halting me in my steps.

"How?"

"Have you forgotten how long I've spent, serving your family?" he asked rhetorically before motioning to the glass cabinet that held most of the antiques my father and grandfather had collected over the years. From old pipes to vintage shoes, they've acquired almost everything they've come across that had more than 50 years of age to it. "And besides, I could see your every move."

"Like that didn't sound creepy at all,"

My eyes trailed over to the long mahogany wood dining table that was placed in the dead centre of the lavishly decorated room. The intricately carved cushion chairs were arranged around the table with precise spacing, complimenting the pastel yellow tablecloth. My mother was an interior designer, and thus, had thrown in the way she had wanted our home decorated.

"I want the dining room to give off the feeling of French coziness and English lavishness. Can you imagine how wonderful that'll look, Richard?" She had told my father.

And now look what it had gotten us: A large crystal chandelier hanging over the dining table that was bound to send anyone to their early grave if it had left its resting place on the ceiling.

Don't get me wrong, I love my parents, but their extravagant lifestyles could be way too over the top sometimes.

Ending my rant, my mind finally registered the food that was placed atop the table and my eyes widened slightly. It was loaded. From bacon and eggs to honeyed French toast. Strawberry pancakes to buttered crumpets. The amount of food looked like it could feed a whole army. Seeing so much food had set off an idea in my head, and suddenly, I was hopeful that my wished had come true.

"Is mum and dad home?" I asked excitedly, hopping onto one of the numerous vacant seats. "That's why the cook made so much food, isn't it? Because we're having breakfast as a family again,"

Theodore ignored my ranting and proceeded to pour some orange juice into my glass. When he was done and had seen the expectant look on my face, he sighed and I already knew what he was about to say.

"Mr and Mrs Walker have already gone off to the company." He explained, taking napkin I had snatched off of my lap and placing it beside my plate neatly.

"But it's a Saturday." I argued. "What could be so impossibly important that they had to miss breakfast on a weekend?"

"It was a…" Theodore cleared his throat. "Last-minute meeting with a client, Miss."

"Oh…" I sighed, taking a buttered crumpet and setting it on my plate. "As usual."

I haven't had a single meal with them the whole week. So, seeing as it was Saturday today, I was actually hoping to at least have a proper breakfast with them. Together. At the dining table. Within one meter from each other. Not over the phone in different countries.

Before I was nine, life was wonderful. My mother was always home with me and we'd do so many things together. Gardening, painting, baking. Nearly everything. My father on the other hand was always available when we needed him. He never skipped breakfast with the family and was always home in time for dinner. During most weekends, he'll drive the three of us to the park where we'd have our weekly picnic by the lake. I'd then be in the shallow waters with my father, while my mother read under the shade of the tree.

Life was perfect then.

Until that one day when my grandfather decided that 'Hey, I'm gonna kick the bucket soon, so why not trust the company and the bloody big-ass mansion to my only son while I go travel around the world in my remaining days.' That my perfect life was just beginning to break apart.

The first crack that initiated the break was my ninth birthday.

Waking up to my parents giving me a post-it note saying they were at the company for an emergency meeting wasn't always a good start to your big day. I was expecting huge bear hugs and a kiss on the forehead like the way they used to greet me on my birthdays. Not some yellow sticky paper with my father's handwriting scrawled on it untidily. It was disappointing, yes. But me being the naïve little girl I still was, brushed it all off and knew that they will be home in time to cut the cake with me.

They weren't.

Apparently, I had fallen asleep on the dining table waiting for them, the yellow plastic knife still in hand before Theodore carried me off to bed. They still were not back even after I was tucked safely into bed. That was because they were away, drinking champagne and making small talk with their possible business clients while I was at home waiting for them foolishly, before I finally succumb to sleep. It was the first sign that I knew my parents wouldn't be able to spend as much time as they could before. The morning after, they barged into my room with another cake in hand and apologetic smiles on their faces. They showered me with lavish gifts that I had no use for at the age of nine and proceeded to sing me a belated birthday song.

I wasn't familiar with everything that had happened then. The belated wishes, the sorry smiles they carried, or the expensive presents wrapped in pretty looking gift-wrap. Was I to be angry that it was late? Or appear indifferent to everything?

I didn't know how I was supposed to react to them. So I did the best to do to when you're trying to brush off everything.

And that was to smile.

But as years go by, I had gotten used to it. Despite the fact that it was rather tiring, having to wake up every morning and run downstairs just to catch a glimpse of them and exchange a brief 'Good morning' before they left for work, I was used to it.

But being used to these changes doesn't mean I'm giving up on changing them back to how it used to be.

"Why don't you give them a call?" Theodore suggested with a smile, causing his grey moustache to quiver with its movements. "I'm sure they'll appreciate it."

Nodding, I punched the speed-dial for my mother's mobile phone and waited as the dial tone for the connection rang out. It took a few moments before it finally clicked and the line got through.

"Hello? Elizabeth Walker, speaking."

"Mummy!" I cried into the phone and took a small bite out of my crumpet. "Good morning!"

"Pixie dear!" I could almost picture that small satisfied smile my mum always had when she called me by that endearment. "Good morning to you too."

I grinned but stopped when I heard another beeping tone coming from the speaker. It meant another caller.

"Mum, are you comi-"

My mum cut through my words. As usual.

"Sweetheart, I'll get back to you after this call alright? It could be from an important client. Bye dear. I love you."

And that was the end of a normal phone call with my mother. It was often cut short before I could say the three words I really meant back to her.

Sighing, I ended my side of the call before speed-dialing my father's cell-phone. It took him a shorter time to pick up the phone as compared to my mother but that was probably because he tended to keep his phone on him at all times.

"Dad?"

"Pixie!" his raspy voice chirped out among the sound of paper shuffling. "Good morning, love! Have you had your breakfast? I heard Mike's cooked quite a heavy one today."

"I'm having it now. Have you had yours?" I took a sip of my orange juice. "I was hoping to have breakfast with you and mummy, but you two were already off to the company."

More paper shuffling. "Daddy, are you busy?"

"Erm… actually," the hesitation in my father's reply had already answered my question. "I'm about to go for a meeting with the designers in… five minutes. Something about coming up with a idea for the next collection."

"Oh…" I leaned back against my chair and sighed quietly, not wanting to show my disappointment to my father. "Alright then."

The sound of plastic against plastic greeted me, which I assumed was my dad stacking the files together.

"Dad, are you gonna be home for dinner tonight?"

"I really hope do so, love." His raspy voice took on a tired ring to it. "It's been a long time since we last had dinner as a family, hasn't it?"

I smiled as that little sparkle of hope in my heart was rekindled by his innocent suggestion. "Yeah,"

"Well, don't you sound excited," my dad laughed. "I'll try my best to be home with your dear mother by dinnertime tonight, love. Then we'll have our movie night, alright?"

I knew I was too old for this, but I needed the assurance. "You promise?"

"… I promise." There was a slight pause before my dad finally answered. Even though there was that annoying second of hesitation, those words were enough for me. "And now I've got to be off for the meeting."

"Alright." I took another bite out of my crumpet. "Bye Daddy. I'm looking forward to dinner tonight!"

"Me too, sweetheart. I love you,"

Click.

Setting my phone aside, I turned to Theodore, who was now grinning at my beaming face.

"Theodore! Get everyone here for breakfast." I served two slices of French toast onto my plate, feeling my appetite increase. "The maids, cooks, everyone! Even the gardener. We have to finish everything here so that there will be space on the table for dinner tonight!"

Hope you liked it!
xx neoncrayons.