I've updated this one, adding a bit to the end and fixing my errors. It's just a new idea that I'm toying with. I need an over all opinion, don't worry about any miss spellings or grammar. The story is going to end up a Jekyll and Hyde story. I'm not sure if anyone has seen the move with Julia Roberts and John Malkovich but it was called Mary Reily, and I kind of got the idea from that, but modern times. Tell me what you think...
“What started out as a sweet young artist on the rise, turned into the pill poppin,’ booze drinkin,’ party animal we see today as Samantha Dunn. We all loved her pop song ‘Live your own life’ from the early days but today, she has tried many times to regain that fame. Word to the wise Samantha—you’re a one hit wonder. Move on. Which she has tried, and failed miserably. With trying to do books, movies, TV series, and a remix with good artists. The crowd just doesn’t love her any more. Our recourses tell us that she is taking a seriously needed vacation in London for the summer. Good Luck Samantha.”
“Piss off,” I said out loud. Quickly, I looked around to see if any one had heard me. In the small confined space of an airplane, you have to watch yourself.
I folded the tabloid magazine and tucked it beside me on the seat. The writer that has been following my career very closely, Mr. Utterson, was actually sent to England to follow me. He was sleazy like most of them and would do anything for a good story. He’d eat up the fact that what I was doing wasn’t a vacation, but more like a rehab center with fewer privileges then prison.
Your eyes are not deceiving you people. The famous Samantha Dunn is being sent as a servant to work for some doctor. The doctor, I always forget his name, bought the house from my parents when my Great Aunt Mary Reilly passed away. My parents thought that by doing this I would be saving my soul. True Christians, they are.
Now you’d think being all grown up, I wouldn’t have to go through with this. However, my probation officer talked to my parents and this is what they came up with instead of going to jail…again.
“Excuse me miss,” a flight attendant leaned in to my seat, “Your over head light is causing a disturbance with the other passengers.” Her outlandish smile almost made me snicker. The flight attendant was in dire need of an orthodontist.
I turned off the over head light and asked, “Can I get something to drink?”
The girl nodded, “Would you like soda?”
I shook my head, “No, I was thinking more like hard liquor.”
The girl’s smile faded and she retreated to the galley. She returned in record time with a small bottle, a very very small bottle of some booze. I didn’t bother to read it, I just shot it down and closed my eyes.
When I woke, we were on the ground. People around me were moving around and kicking my seat. Well, that’s a little rude. I stood up to grab my bag from the overhead compartment and walked as quickly as I could out of the metal death trap.
Outside there was little to no wind and the sky was covered in one large dark cloud. It looked like rain. I hate rain.
In the lobby I stood, with my entire luggage, waiting. My mother said she talked to the caretaker of the house and he would send some one to pick me up. The caretaker’s name is Mr. Poole I think.
“Samantha?” some one called.
I turned and saw a young man looking at me with his eyebrows drawn together creating a crease in his forehead. “Yes?” Panic washed over me. He was extremely good looking but I didn’t have any bodyguards and I can’t really deal with adoring fans by myself.
He held out his hand for me to shake, “I’m Rex.” Rex had one of those hot, thick accents that make American girls faint. “Mr. Poole sent me to bring you to the mansion.” From my very few stays in London while on tour, I could tell he must have lived in the country as a child. It was a mixture really, of the traditional and country. Very sexy, indeed.
“Hello.” I said taking his hand.
He took most of my bags and led me out of the airport. His car was like a car you’d see in an old Mafia movie. I was surprised how quite it was; I was expecting it to sound like an old jalopy.
“I am the doctor’s driver and I run a lot of his errands.” Rex said with a smile.
“Don’t you think its weird how this doctor guy just agreed to have me stay there? He doesn’t know me.”
Rex shrugged, “I know Mr. Poole didn’t like the idea. But since you are related to Mary, the doctor saw no reason not to help out.”
“Did he know Mary?” I asked, half interested. Honestly, I was staring out the window trying to figure out where we were going. We had passed several signs and exits, but we continued to drive on.
“His father did, before he died. The man was a scientist, well, a mad scientist. I’ve heard stories about him and his secret lab.” Rex’s voice turned dark, as if he were trying to scare me.
“What’s his name again?”
“Doctor Jekyll.”
