Hello there, normal living creatures seated in your crouches and comfy chairs, and probably eating chocolate and skittles. My name is Victoria Bianca Evans, but to be completely honest, I HATE my name. You can call me Tori if you want, it's shorter and nicer anyway. And it sounds more, hmmm, how can I explain... More 'glamorous'. More than Bianca. Anything sounds more glamorous than Bianca.

My name is completely unoriginal, a simple Latin name which is the complete opposite of me, a random Italian name (my father is Italian), which I don't know from where my father took that idea and finally, Evans. One of the most common last names on USA.

Since my father is Italian, why don't I have a cool Italian last name? It's because, my father liked how my mother's last name sounded, so, I ended up with Evans instead of Arigliatto.

One of the many mysteries of my life, is the reason why my mother gave me the name Victoria, it is funny how extremely ironic it is because my name is supposed to mean 'victory' but I'm probably the unluckiest loser in Earth and beyond.

And when I say in Earth and beyond, I actually mean it.

Just like Ori would say, I'm over reacting a bit. Wait a moment, I'm going to talk about that later, hang on.

So, my series of unexpected events went on like this:

Two seconds! Before that, a quick description on how I was.

Ow, Tori, you're just too stupid! You already told them that you changed! Wasn't that supposed to be a surprise?

See? I have this little problem of arguing with myself, anyway, the description...
In my last day in Seattle, I had chin length curly ginger hair, with a blue lock, eyes that kept changing between blue and green and I was 18 years old. Oh, and I was 5,8 tall.

Everyone here thinks I'm completely strange and weird and over reacting and loud and well, nothing good. Except a few people who had my trust knew the truth about me...

Tori! Again! You spoiled the story!

This arguing...It happens every now and then, maybe I'm slowly turning into Gollum.

AHHHH! You did it again!

Before the stupid and irrational part of my brain (the biggest part of it, anyway) continues to annoy me, I'll start to tell the COMPLETE story of how I ended up on this mess:

"VICTORIA BIANCA EVANS, FOR THE LAST TIME, WAKE UP!" My father shouted with his Italian accent that was almost an exact copy of Mario's in Mario Bros, his name just happened to be Mario too. He entered my room and opened the window, revealing a bright sun light. I used to live in an apartment with my father and younger brother. And my mother? Yeah, she is doing volunteer work in Sierra Leone as a doctor, so, the last time that I saw her was a year ago. But I'm actually really proud of her, but i miss her more. Every now and then we talk via Skype.

"AAAAAH! IT BURNS!" I screamed and pulled my blanket so it could cover my face. However, Dad had no mercy upon my innocent soul and pulled the blankets.

"Victoria, you know that you are already late to arrive early at school?" My father was very strict with school (actually, he was strict with everything) , he always made me wake up earlier to get to school at least 30 minutes before classes started.

"Whatever." I muttered and rubbed my eyes. Dad was staring at me when I finally opened my eyes. My father was scary, he was very tall and skinny and had a ginger mustache (that was getting white), which was really creepy. Oh, and he was bald.

"Hurry up, your mother wishes to speak to you." Father then left the room and left me alone. He apparently didn't care really much for me, he was only present in my life at the moments in which I got in trouble. And that happened a lot, because I'm quite rebel and hate everything and everyone almost all the time.

I looked at the clock and it was 6:40 a.m. And school starts at 8:00 a.m. Great, I'm late to arrive early. I walked to my wardrobe and picked up a pair of jeans and a simple flower blouse. I quickly changed clothes and went back to sleep. I always did that.

I woke up with a really loud BIP sound. I jumped up and looked at my alarm clock.


I ran out of my bed, grabbed my backpack and raced to the kitchen. Probably my father will scream at me and I'll not have breakfast, which always happened when I woke up late for school. My father was seated in the end of the table with a laptop, looking at me with a disapproval face. My younger brother was eating waffles.

"Youw arew latew" Luigi, my younger brother said with his mouth full of waffles. from his chin I could see a little maple syrup streaming down. He looked so much like my mother, he had black hair and blue eyes. "I can't believew that youw still havew that bluew lock in yourew hairw." Everybody compained about my hair. Yay. I liked the blue thing, with it I didn't look so much like my father.

"Shut up, Luigi." I snapped. My 15 year old brother was extremely annoying and stupid.

"Anything you would like to say to your mother, Victoria?" Father turned the laptop screen to me and I faced the screen with my mother showing in it. I miss her. Like, very much. She was absent almost half of my life and she wasn't here in very important moments of my life, which only made my anger against my father grow.

"I have nothing to say, bye!" I ran to the door and opened it. I'm not in the mood to talk to my mother and to hear my father complaining about me to her. He always did that.

Basically, my life was a mess. My mom was never home, my father complained about everything, Luigi was impossible and I ate spaghetti every single day!

I just couldn't wait to finish High School and move out of this hospice.

"Come back here!" My father shouted. Nope, I'll not come back. Luckily, the elevator was just at the 10th floor, which happened to be the floor that I lived in.

I entered and quickly pressed the button that closed the elevator's door. I could see my father's red angered face before the door closed.

"Whew." I breathed out. It was really usual for me to fight with my father, specially when it involved school. When this fights happened, I usually went to my grandmother's house to seek refugee from my temperamental father. She seamed to be the only one who understood me.

I was halfway down the building when the elevator stopped. Ah, this is definitely not my day. Well, I never had a good day anyway.

"Nice way to start the day." I concluded. I looked for my iPhone inside my bag to send a message to my the emergency to tell them that I was stuck in the elevator, but suddenly everything started spinning and my vision went black.

"My lady? Are you alright?" I heard somebody say.

I woke up and faced a very old tall guy wearing grey robes and a pointy hat. Dumbledore maybe forgot to send my letter when I was 11.

"What the hell and I doing at Hogwarts?" I asked while I got up. "Am I a witch?"

"This is not Hogwarts, we're in the Shire. And you are not a witch, apparently." What on earth is the Shire? So I'm not in Hogwarts then? I really wanted to do an Avada Kedavra in a lot of people.

I looked around and realized that I've just landed on a wicked dream in the Middle Ages.

Yeah, today is not my day.

So, this is the prologue, hope you liked! That was actually my first attempt to write a fic, I got the inspiration of the inumerous fics I have been reading in this site.
Reviews are loved and constructed criticism is appreciated!