"Honey, get up for school!" That was my mother, making sure I was awake before she left. Of course, I wasn't, so five minutes later, our maid came in and dragged me out of bed. Actually, it's not really a bed, I prefer to just sleep on a mattress on the floor.

My name is Alexandria, a princess name. As a matter of fact, my cousin is the Queen of England, but that doesn't change me from being myself. Much to my parents' dismay, I turned out to be a freak. Not just a weird person, but a glam-rock loving, glitter-wearing freak, the kind you'd never guess to be royalty, which is such a stereotype that I've gotten plenty sick of in my sixteen years of age.

My sister, however, enjoys being royalty and dressing like a princess. Aside from the fact that we came from the same cell and look alike, there's nothing similar between us. Although, don't get the impression that I don't like her, I do. We're just different.

I went over to my closet and picked out three different outfits, mixing and matching. Finally, I put on maroon silk pajama bottoms, a yellow tank top, a blue sweater over that, and rainbow-coloured toe socks. I brushed my long, blonde hair, and then looked myself over in the mirror.

"Alex, we're going to be late!" my twin, Jen, yelled from the bottom of the stairs. So, I ran out of my room as I put on my four-inch platform shoes. "God, you're going to kill yourself in those shoes," she commented.

I threw my bag into the back seat of my car (a brand new white convertible, which I got for my last birthday), and we climbed into it. As I pulled out of the driveway, I wondered how I, of all people, got stuck in this family.

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