Chapter 1

Hannah Lewis really needs to stop comparing herself to Hannah Montana.

“Wouldn't you like to say something for the camera? I mean, considering it's our first day of high school and all...” my best friend, Ryan, said.

 

“Hi guys or whoever will be watching this! I'm about to get lost,” I told the camera with fake enthusiasm. Ryan shook his head, put his camera under his arm and grabbed me by the shoulders, which took me by surprise.

 

“Listen, Hannah. I'm in all of your classes. I'll help you out,” he said.

 

“You had better not ditch me,” I barked. “Or else.”

 

--

 

I searched in my pencil case for my pencil labelled 'Monday'. Today had been awesome. I met my teachers, and they all seemed nice, but Ryan said that's just a disguise. I chose to ignore him. He's a natural pessimist.

 

When I finally found my pencil, I began writing like there was no tomorrow.

 

Oh yeah, I forgot to introduce myself. Well, I'm Hannah Lewis. My best friend in the whole wide world, otherwise known as Ryan Fletcher, calls me Hannah Montana just to wind me up. Unfortunately, I don't have any stupid nicknames for him. Anyway, I'm pretty average looking, not that I care or anything. I have blonde hair with natural streaks, which makes me look like stupid Hannah Montana. Pretty much the only thing I don't have in common with her is my last name, my eye colour (I have hazel eyes) and my style. I'm not into glitter. Oh yeah, and I don't have multiple personality disorder. I'm all Hannah Lewis. Oh, and one more thing, I don't have a fake personality. I keep it real. So, Hannah Montana has nothing on me.

 

Ryan also tells me I sing way better than her. I don't know where he got that from. I've never sang in front of him in my life. Maybe I have a better talking voice and he just assumes that. I don't know.

But enough about her. Back to writing.

 

Oh, fudge. I ended up writing the lyrics to If We Were A Movie on my piece of paper.

 

“HANNAH! GET TO BED!”

 

Ugh, my mom. Caroline Lewis. She can be a real pain in the neck sometimes. I mean, I love her, but she tells me to go to bed at unreasonable times, like 7:00, when most of the kids I know stay up until midnight.

 

I sighed. “I'm going, mom!”

 

I never knew my dad. He dumped my mother when she was pregnant with me (I know it sounds like a cliché). I wouldn't blame him. I can be a lot to handle sometimes. Like that time when I was five and I was at the beach with Ryan and his mom, and he got ice cream but I didn't, so I started bawling and hitting Ryan. What a scene. Every time we have ice cream Ryan reminds me of it.

 

“I KNOW YOU'RE STILL UP, HANNAH!”

 

“Okay, mom! I'm going!”

 

I was already wearing pyjamas, so I didn't have to bother changing. I always put my pyjamas on straight after school, unless I have to do something important. (AKA something my mother thinks is important, like shoe shopping. I now have over 100 pairs of shoes thanks to her! Oh, you should see her shoe collection. She has over 1000 pairs of shoes. It's crazy.)

 

I jumped on my bed and fell asleep.

Reviews

[Broken.]

It seems like an interesting story, I want to read on.

I shall wait at the door for the next chapters!!
Very homourous. Which I personally admire. :]