Dark Nights, Silent Screams (CHP1)

Chapter 1: Cliches
My father was having another party. I mean, honestly what is the fun of standing awkwardly off to the side, while classical music plays and my father talks to his 'associates'. You just might be able to tell that I really do not enjoy my father's parties. However to night wasn't just any party that my father had thrown on a whim, tonight was my seventeenth birthday.

I was standing by the punch bowl, alone. My pale skin glittering in the lights, giving me (or so my Step-mother Lauren says) an attractive and enchanting glow. I guess that you would find it very odd that they birthday girl was all alone. I already mentioned that I was ignored at parties like this, but it's my birthday! You'd think I'd get even the smallest bit of attention. But no!

Ah, it doesn't matter anyways. I'm used to it. I actually enjoy, most of the time.
Anyway I was standing by the punch bowl, glancing around, observing the people who were invited. My father was off in the corner with some men, probably discussing business. Lauren was laughing and chatting with some women her age. Off course my mother and my half-siblings were not invited. Because God forbid that the birthday girl actually enjoys her party.

I turned to the punch bowl and went to fill my cup with that spoon thing (what is called again?). I paused for a minute, looking at my reflection in the blood red liquid.

I had always gotten a lot of attention, and I had always been considered 'beautiful' or 'hot' or whatever. I always figured myself to just be average.

Like I mentioned I have very pale skin. I always have long, black hair that was pin straight. I inherited the hair from my father, along with my bright blue eyes. Most people say I look more like my father, with his eyes and hair. But personally I think I look more like my mother. My mother is where I got my pale skin and my petiteness (is that a word?)
Likes my mother I was quiet short (only 5'2) and I had small facial features. It's been a couple years since I've seen my mother so, I'm not sure who I really look more like.
My whole theory is that I only receive the attention because I'm a novelty.
I mean I am the only person with pale skin, in a kingdom filled with people who look like they spent the last hour on the beach.

I sighed and dipped that spoon thing into the punch bowl, shattering the image of my face. After the fancy wine glass was filled, I turned back and continued to observe the crowd of people.

I sighed, yet again, and took a sip of my deer blood.

Wait, dear blood?

Yes, you read right. And no, that is not a typo.

Maybe I should explain.

My name is Audrey Nightshade and this is my story.

Man this sounds so cliché.