Need help with Story Introduction.
Ok, well I'm working on a new story but the begining is just not coming together well. I have awsome ideas for this story but they just don't seem to sound good on paper. So, please read what I've put together and post any suggestions/corrections.
Here it is...
Many people enjoy the unrealistic dream world of fairytales. Children are tucked into bed at night with the tales of beautiful princesses and charming princes. I’m here to set things straight, not every Princess gets her Prince. So here’s my tale, a modern day Princess that seems to have it all but in reality has nothing.
Once upon a time in modern day New York City there lived a beautiful, rich, High School student named Hannah Dove. Hannah was the girl that every other girl wanted to be. She had money, looks and popularity, all the things that every teenager craved. On the outside Hannah had everything but deep down she seemed to be dying…
“Mom,” I said as I crept into my Mothers large spacious room.
Rachelle Dove was sprawled out on her king sized bed with a martini glass lying on the bed just beyond the grasp of her hand. She looked plastic like, with all the Botox and makeup. Was this what my future held? Passing out drunk in my king sized bed, in my expensive mansion?
“Mom,” I whispered as I knelt down beside the bed. “Please wake up.”
“Hmmm,” she groaned as she slightly opened her eyes.
Suddenly in a gasp of fear, I watched as my Mother hopped up in the air slightly and rolled off the other side of the bed.
“Help!” she screamed still lying on the bed. “Help me!”
“Mom,” I yelled back. “It’s me, Hannah!”
“Huh?” she questioned dumbly.
“Your daughter Mom,” I said gently, climbing up onto the bed and crawling across the bed, into my Mother sight.
“Oh my god,” she said fumbling drunkly to get up. “I thought you were a murderer.”
“Mom?” I asked sweetly. “Can I please borrow the car?”
“Why sweetheart?” she asked as she grabbed my hands, obviously expecting me to help her up off the floor.
“To get a pizza,” I replied. “I sent the maid home early because she wasn’t feeling well.”
“Are you serious?” she said crossly. “That’s the second time this month.”
“Please?” I questioned.
“The keys in my purse,” she said as she pulled herself up onto the floor.
That's as far as I've gotten so far.