Okay, here's a new story, and I hope you love it.

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I'm Princess Michelle Torresenly. I'm heir to the throne of a small island in the pacific. I have brunette hair and brown eyes, matching those of my mother's.

Ten years ago, when I was six years old, my mother died. You see, our healthcare isn't amazing, as our country is quite poor; I want to change this when I'm Queen.

Problem is, I might end up being Queen sooner than imagined; my father is dying of cancer. They've given him several months to live, but I still refuse to leave his side.

"Sweetheart, why do you not pay town a visit? You have not in a while." My father told me.

I shook my head. "Only if you will come too."

"Michelle, I am not feeling up to it today... I will send the guards with you."

"Father, I cannot leave you here."

"Please, I just need rest. I will be fine, I promise." He hugged me and kissed my forehead. "Guard, could you please escort my daughter into town?"

"Yes, your majesty." General Gray bowed. "We will take good care of her."

I sighed. "Please be careful father."

He nodded. "You too."

I walked around town, lifting up my long ballgown slightly, so that it did not scrape along the floor.

"Princess Michelle, it is wonderful to see you." General Kingley bowed. "You are looking radiant."

"Thank you general." I curtzied back.

"Sorry to hear about your father."

"Thank you for your regards."

"I do, however, think that you could reconsider becoming Queen when he passes away. Afterall, you are only sixteen years of age."

"With our hope, she will suceed." General Gray smiled at me.

"Oh, I do not believe she will. And when something terrible happens to her, the crown will be mine."

"Are you threatening me, General?" I frowned at him.

He pulled out a sword and held it close to my chest. "Of course not, your majesty, but something is bound to happen to you."

General Gray pulled out his sword. "Step away from the princess."

"Must I kill you to kill the Princess?" He lunged forwards towards me.

I jumped backwards as General Gray sliced his sword across General Kingley's arm. Blood dripped out of the wound, making me squirm.

"Princess, you must come with me." General Gray took my hand and we ran off, away from the traitor.

We ran through the town and up the stairs, where a helicopter stood.

"But my father!" I cried out, tears in my eyes. "I must go back to him!"

"Your majesty, he will be fine, but if you stay here, you will not." He lifted me up and placed me in the helicopter, strapping me down.

"Can he not come with us?" A tear escaped.

He climbed into the seat next to me and stapped himself in. "I am afraid he cannot in his current condition."

The helicopter took off, making me gasp. I clutched onto the seat, nervously. I had not been this scared since my mother had passed away.

Tears ran down my cheeks as the helicopter came into landing.

I looked around. "You are stranding me on a deserted island, general?"

He shook his head and laughed. "Of course not. Follow me."

We walked up a hill, helping me along the way. We walked through some trees before reaching a large metal door.

"Agent Gray here." He spoke into a microphone.

"Fingerprint please." The voiceover responded.

He placed his right index finger onto a glowing blue button.

"Access granted."

The door opened and we stepped inside. The metal door closed behind us. A screen turned on and a woman dressed in black smiled.

"Agent Gray, Princess Michelle, did you have a safe trip?"

"Yes thank you." General Gray responded.

"What is this place?" I asked with confusion as a door on the left opened for us.

I gapsed, looking around and the multi-cultural girls in long ballgowns or robes. My tutor had taught me about this and I was probably able to speak every one of their languages too.

"Welcome to the Princess Protection Programme." General Gray said as we stepped inside the building. Other agents hurried around with the girls, who must have all been princesses.

"Pardon?" I replied, confused, as we walked towards a desk in the centre of the room.

The woman in the centre of the room, smiled as we reached the desk. She had red cropped hair and was dressed in a black suit. "The Princess Protection Programme. Set up by royal families to provide security for all princesses in the world for when they are threatened or their country is at war."

"So my mother and father signed me up for this?"

"Yes." General Gray nodded. "And I was assigned to protect you."

"When do I get to see my father again?"

The woman sighed. "When it is safe enough for you to return to your country, your majesty, but for now, you will take on a new identity and live with your assigned family."

"New identity? Assigned family? Why can I not remain Princess Michelle Torresenly?" I frowned.

"Your majesty, we need to keep you safe from General Kingley until we are able to arrest him. You see, currently he is doing absolutely nothing wrong as he is not breaking any rules in your country. We need to change that." General Gray explained.

"As long as my father is fully protected."

"General Gray, please take Princess Michelle through to hair."

"Pardon!?" I gasped as the hairdresser began to cut my hair.

"We are going to shorten your hair." She repeated.

I crossed my arms and pouted. "You cannot cut my hair. I do not give you permission to do so!"

General Gray sighed. "Princess Michelle, we need to make you look different to how you do currently."

I sighed. "Okay, but not too short please."

The hairdresser turned my chair around so that I was looking into the mirror. She cut my hair so that it just reached my breasts, in little brunette curls. She then gave me a side-parting and trimmed my hair on one side, so I had a side-fringe.

She rinsed my hair and blow-dried it, leaving the curls to form. "There we are, your majesty."

I looked in the mirror. I did look different, but not a bad different. "Thank you, madam."

General Gray laughed. "Come on, let's go get you some clothes."

I gasped as we entered wardrobe. Clothing was laid out in categories such as "rock", "boho", "country" and "girly.

"Hello, your majesty." A woman smiled, walking over. "I will be your stylist. We can pick out a few pieces to get you started and then your new family can help."

I tried on several outfits, unsure of which look would suit me best.

"I think she's a girly girl." General Gray smiled.

The stylist looked at me in the girly girl outfit. "I think so too. It's much more flattering for her slim figure and breasts."

I blushed, crossing my arms across my chest. The stylist handed two bags of clothes to General Gray.

We returned to the reception and the red-head receptionist smiled. "You look fantastic, Mitchie."

I frowned. "It's Michelle."

"We have had to modify you name slightly." She handed me a birth certificate, ID card and passport. "You are now Mitchie Torres from Palm Springs, California. You are half-costa rican and were born on April 7th 1992."

"It is my birthday in two weeks." I smiled.

We caught a helicopter to the mainland before catching a private jet to Ottawa in Canada.

"What are your family like, General?" I asked General Gray as we got into a black jeep.

He pulled out of the carpark and onto the motorway. "Mitchie, just call me Paul, okay?" I nodded. "There's my wife Denise, who will love you as if you were her own."

I half-smiled, feeling nervous. "She sounds lovely."

"She is." He nodded. "And then there are my three sons; Nate, Jason and Shane."

"How old are they?"

"Nate is seventeen, Shane is eighteen and Jason is twenty... they're all very musical. They're in a band."

"Are they any good?"

He laughed. "Yes, but they aren't famous quite yet!"

He drove into a driveway of a beautiful white house with blue shutters and a small flower-covered garden out front. It even had a small porch and a white picket fence.

"It is beautiful." I smiled as he parked the car.

"Thank you, Mitchie." Paul smiled back. He unfastened his seatbelt and walked to my side of the car to let me out. He grabbed the bags of clothes before slamming the door behind him.

He opened the front door. "We're home!"

I took a deep breath as I walk into the door behind him, nervously. A brunette woman with bouncy girls hurried down the stairs with a big smile on her face.

She hurried over to us. "Aren't you beautiful." She hugged me. "I'm Denise."

"Mitchie." I replied, hugging her back.

"Well Mitchie, just make yourself at home. I'm sure you'll fit in just great, and if you ever need to talk, I'm here!"

"Thank you."

"Boys, come and say hi to our guest!" Denise called her sons.

I bit my lip, nervously. A boy with brunette curls walked into the room with a smile matching his mother's.

"Hey, I'm Nate."

"Mitchie." I replied as he shook my hand. A taller brunette boy walked in, his hair also curly.

"Wow, hi, I'm Jason!" He pulled me into a suffocating hug.

"Don't kill Mitchie, Jase!" Nate pulled him back and I laughed.

A grumpy teenage boy walked into the room, his brunette hair dead-straight. His body was muscular, and he was the same size as Nate. He would have been good-looking if he had been in a good mood.

"Shane, your majesty." He curtzied, grumpily.

Nate hit him in the arm. "Don't be a jerk, Shane!"

Shane mumbled something that ended with 'princess.'

I frowned. "Can I call my mother, please?"

Paul shook his head. "Sorry, but the general could track you down."

"Why don't I take you shopping, Mitchie?" Denise suggested. "Your room just has the basics, so we could go and buy you some things to decorate it and maybe some clothes?"

"Okay." I nodded in agreement. Denise grabbed her handbag and we walked out of the door. Shane groaned.

"Spoilt brat."