A/N: Changed the title. More fitting for something that happens later on. I don't have it written yet, but idea's in my head.

My vision was blurry. It was all I could do but use the banister on the stairs to keep me from falling. I guess I had consumed a little too much alcohol that night. But I was used to it.

"Who am I?" you ask? My name is Kiely Mayers. I'm 17 years old, roughly 5'7" tall. I guess you could say I was pretty, generally speaking. Cause I mean, who really is pretty nowadays? All you get are either "fake", "blonde" or "beautiful". That's who I believe guys go for nowadays. I mean who would go for a short haired brunette with boring green eyes these days? Not many guys. You might find the rare one in a bunch of 100 of them, but that's basically it. So I like to stay in my place on the sidelines, where I wont have to worry about guys groping me whenever I walk by.

Yeah, so I was just returning home from "MaRs". No not the planet, the bar, down the road from my apartment. It's kind of an acronym for the owner's names, Mark Arnolds and Riley Somers. Who just so happen to be good friends of mine (actually I kind of dated them both, but I let them off easy, and we're still friends), and that's how I get in and get drinks without being the legal age. Ha. And anyways, the guys treated me to a round of drinks on the house, and I couldn't resist but go out on their offer, and got myself a few more drinks than offered. I wasn't known to be able to hold my alcohol well.

When I reached the door to my home, I pulled my keys out of my purse, which took a while as I am a very disorganized person, and unlocked the door. I lived on my own in a house that was pretty close to my high school. My father died when I was seven, and my mother...well...she was in jail for abusing me as of last year. Child services decided I would have been better off on my own as I was nearly 18, and I had practically lived on my own pretty much, because my mother was rarely home.

I earned money by working as a waitress at MaRs, where I got tons of tips to keep myself going. Luckily the house had been handed down in the family, so I never had to pay rent or mortgages. I was lucky that my father's side of my family had been quite rich so to speak, so he had left me a nice sum of money when he died, and I was saving it for college. He hadn't even left my mother anything. I mean I don't believe they really loved each other. It was actually an arranged marriage so my mother's family wouldn't be forced out on the streets. I know this sounds unrealistic, but it's true.

The house wasn't that big. It was a two floored house, with three bedrooms, a bathroom, kitchen, den, living room, attic and basement. And a couple of other rooms that I rarely entered. An old Mercedes Benz sat in the garage, which I rarely used because I lived so close to school, so I just walked.

So I had to say, I was doing well on my own. And it felt good having no one boss me around, or telling me what to do with my life. It was even better that I was going to be graduating this year, and then I was really on my own.

I had a lot of friends in school. I wouldn't say I was popular, but I would say there was rarely a person who hated me. I was a straight-A student, and hoping to get a scholarship, so I wouldn't have to dip too far into my college fund, and I could save up for a family. Which would be great to have one day.

I wasn't perfect. I mean rules are meant to be broken sometimes, right? I got an occasionally "talk" with the prinicipal, which usually involved him telling me to watch it or I'll lose my scholarship status, and yet I never lose it. So I find his "talks" utterly useless.

I've been in too many relationships to count, so don't ask me.

And on a final note...Pirates rock!

ahem I mean, thanks for listening to my ranting.