Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Desrever ❯ Chapter 1
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: ven 
Anime/Manga: Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Suspense / Romance / Drama / Comedy | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 08.23.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.0K | Visits: 518 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Suspense / Romance / Drama / Comedy | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 08.23.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.0K | Visits: 518 | Status: Work In Progress
Desrever
Chapter 1
Joanna Tran
Birthday: 10/08/92
(D/M/Y)
Age: 13
Height: 5.1”
Zodiac: Leo
Year: Monkey
Country: Canada
City, State/Province: Toronto, Ontario
This is a dream come true! Today, at the dinner table, my mother and my stepfather told me we’re going to move to Japan! It seemed that they didn't tell my brother yet because after they said it he snorted out his food. Mashed potatoes mixed with gravy and chicken on the side, munched up and spit all over the table, some came out of his nose too, it was disgusting. I’ve loved Japan for so long that I vaguely remember when or why I started. I barely recall when however, something in my mind tells me it was around second grade. The grade where we start to learn a little about other countries.
My mother got a job invitation from the ‘Head of English Education’ down in Japan. It stated that the amount of ESL teacher’s down in Japan is decreasing and that they needed more teachers.
“Dear Mrs. Nguyen,
As you well know, the number of ‘English Second Language’, otherwise known as ESL, teachers have been decreasing lately due to retirement, family occasions, going to work drunk (leading to getting fired), family deaths, and much more awkward occurrences. Some of the people who have been teaching ESL that categorize in the above may be coming back however, some will definitely not be admitted back onto school grounds. For that reason we have sent these letters to qualified teachers in Canada and the U.S.A. You were chosen as one of the qualified ESL teachers to come to Japan, because you can speak Japanese fluently as well as English, you would be a very good teacher. If you accept our offer we will include your ticket to Japan so you won’t have to pay. There are a few houses for rent around your new (if you accept) workplace. You will be teaching adults in the ESL classes and your pay will be high. As you well know, teachers are paid by how much people are in your class. I would like to have you know that there are a ton of Japanese business people who are eager to learn English. Please accept our offer, and family members are permitted to come with you to Japan but we cannot pay for their plane tickets.
Yours Sincerely,
ESL Japan Board of Education.”
My stepfather is the owner of a large business selling plant products for well, of course, plants. You’d be surprised how many people care about their plants! It’s a big success and he hardly has to work because, well, he has a lot of workers working for him already. My mother and stepfather usually go around to different countries for ‘their’ vacation, while they leave my brother and I alone at home. They’ve gone to places like Florida, Vietnam, India, England, Sweden, Hawaii, etc.. Basically, they’ve practically been to half of the places in the world, all without us. This time it should be different! We’re all going to move to Japan and live there!
We currently live in a ‘not-to-shabby-but-there’s-bugs-everywhere’ kind of house. Literally, there’s tiny pitch black spiders with extremely long legs, spinning webs in every corner within the house. To make matters worse, my mother always barges into my room when I’m sleeping and opens the window. What’s so bad? My window has no net to keep out bugs, birds, and insects. One time I woke up and there was a dead ladybug next to me. Not only that, my room was filled with bugs and insects that morning. I refused to go to my room that entire day. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not scared of bugs! I just don’t like them. Yeah, that’s all. My mom’s lousy excuse for opening the window was that, “You’re room is so messy, how could you breathe? You need fresh air.” My room is not messy! As well as, I could so breathe!
Anyways, I’ve had a stepfather ever since last year. My biological mother and father got a divorce when I was about six years old. Due to fighting or some weird stuff like that. I currently live with my mother although, it’s written in some law thing that I was supposed to be taken in by my father and that my brother was to be with my mother. Oh well, some things should just remain a mystery.
My brother is six years older than me and he treats me like a slave. Ever since I could remember, which was probably around senior kindergarten, he’s made me do all of his chores and if I refused he’d chase me around with a broom. That broom wasn’t used just for scaring me. Oh no, no, no. When I refused, he’d take it out and beat me. Or when I was doing the chore too slow, he’d take it out and beat me. From folding clothes, sweeping the floor, dusting, mopping, and even washing the dishes, at five years old too.
One time, while I was folding clothes in my parent’s bedroom (where the computer just happened to be), my brother was using the computer (as always) but this time, instead of a broom, he brought a pellet gun. You know those pellet guns, right? Where you pull the trigger, forcing the pellet to hit the cap and then it makes a deafening noise. Well, my brother just happened to be the completely insane, psycho lunatic who thought that it’d be ‘funny’ to remove the cap of the pellet gun and shoot it at me. I don’t really recall the retarded excuse he used to make him think it was alright to shoot me. It was probably, “You’re folding the clothes too slow,” or “Why are you looking at the computer?!”
I just ‘happened’ to be a witch one Halloween (actually, that’s not true, I was a witch every Halloween). Anyways, when my mother and father left for work the day after taking me out for Halloween, my brother would take the plastic broom from my costume and… Yes, he’d hit me. He’s just that cruel. I could still remember the broom. Around it was a pretty black silk cloth with a lined pattern. I guess it was to make the broom look more witch-like. I can’t believe I still listen to him. The past must have scarred me. I mean, seriously, I was five. That would totally scar any five year old for life. He beat me until that plastic broomstick broke.
Now, I’m 13 and I try to keep my distance. I try not to see him and often lock myself in my room so he can’t talk to me. It works well but what worked really well was that time before I moved. Before I moved to this lousy house I lived in a two bedroom apartment. It was my brother, my aunt, my cousin and I, in that apartment. My mother was living in some other house with, people.. It was a two bedroom apartment so, my brother got his own room and my aunt shared a room with my cousin. I, who was always cursed, resided in the living room. To keep my brother out of my life, because I had absolutely no privacy seeing as my room was in the living room, I made a great friend named Christal. I always hung out with her and we would have so much fun that time would go by so fast. I’d always come home at about twelve a.m. when everyone’s asleep and that’s how I lived my life. But then we moved to this damn house. It’s so far from Christal, to tell you the truth, I really didn’t want to move and I didn’t want to make any other friends, seeing as the same thing would probably happen. So my conclusion was to lock myself in my room everyday after school and on the weekends as well. I moved into this house with my brother, mother, and stepfather while my aunt and cousin stayed at the apartment.
My mother has pitch black, shoulder length hair with red streaks which you can see from three blocks away. She’s allowed to constantly dye her hair but she won’t let me, it’s so unfair. Her eyes are a nice brown color when she’s out in the sun, but they look like a normal dark brown while inside. She’s a core teacher in ‘Joseph Brant Senior Public School’, meaning she teaches History, Math, Geography, and English. Her specialty is English, she likes it a lot. It sometimes scares me when she speaks all formal to me, which is rarely. But when she does, it almost feels like she’s not really my mother but some stranger treating me like, well, a stranger.
My stepfather has short, jet black hair. He’s short, chubby, and nice, I guess. I don’t really like to socialize with him, seeing as every time he’s near I feel this eerie uncomfortable-ness. It’s really freaky actually, whenever my stepfather and I are left alone like that one time we were the only ones eating at the dining table, uneasiness filled my mind and I felt like I didn’t belong there so I stuffed everything in my mouth, quickly washed the plate along with the utensils I used, then I ran up to my room.
My brother is probably well explained to you. Well, his personality at least. He has really short hair and when I say ‘really’, I mean really. His natural hair color is black and he has eyes so black that it doesn't even look real. Even when he steps out into the sun, it’s still pitch black. He’s about, a little bit taller than me, and his face is covered in zits, while I don’t have any. Speaking of which, my mother and biological father don’t have zits either. It’s probably his punishment for being so evil all his life.
Now about me! I’m a girl, about 5.1”. Personally, out of my whole family, I'd have to say I loved my father the most. He’s probably the one that cares about me the most, or the only one that acts like it. I loved to go outside but now I trap myself in my room and refuse to make friends. After moving away from Christal, I guess I’ve become one of those antisocial type of people. Oh, right. I have really dark brown hair that it almost looks black, unless I’m outside in the sunlight. After begging, begging, begging, and pleading to the point where I thought I’d lose my voice, my mother let me streak my hair just once for my school picture. There are still light brown streaks above my dark brown hair. I also have bangs that go all the way down to my chin, they’re usually just flicked to the side of my face because they’re always in front of my eyes. I --
“Joanna, are you done packing up yet?!”
“No, not yet!!”
“Hurry up, we have to get ready to leave for tomorrow morning. Pack up your things and go to bed.”
“Yeah, yeah, your majesty..”
“Excuse me, did you say something?”
“No mom!”
Chapter 1
Joanna Tran
Birthday: 10/08/92
(D/M/Y)
Age: 13
Height: 5.1”
Zodiac: Leo
Year: Monkey
Country: Canada
City, State/Province: Toronto, Ontario
This is a dream come true! Today, at the dinner table, my mother and my stepfather told me we’re going to move to Japan! It seemed that they didn't tell my brother yet because after they said it he snorted out his food. Mashed potatoes mixed with gravy and chicken on the side, munched up and spit all over the table, some came out of his nose too, it was disgusting. I’ve loved Japan for so long that I vaguely remember when or why I started. I barely recall when however, something in my mind tells me it was around second grade. The grade where we start to learn a little about other countries.
My mother got a job invitation from the ‘Head of English Education’ down in Japan. It stated that the amount of ESL teacher’s down in Japan is decreasing and that they needed more teachers.
“Dear Mrs. Nguyen,
As you well know, the number of ‘English Second Language’, otherwise known as ESL, teachers have been decreasing lately due to retirement, family occasions, going to work drunk (leading to getting fired), family deaths, and much more awkward occurrences. Some of the people who have been teaching ESL that categorize in the above may be coming back however, some will definitely not be admitted back onto school grounds. For that reason we have sent these letters to qualified teachers in Canada and the U.S.A. You were chosen as one of the qualified ESL teachers to come to Japan, because you can speak Japanese fluently as well as English, you would be a very good teacher. If you accept our offer we will include your ticket to Japan so you won’t have to pay. There are a few houses for rent around your new (if you accept) workplace. You will be teaching adults in the ESL classes and your pay will be high. As you well know, teachers are paid by how much people are in your class. I would like to have you know that there are a ton of Japanese business people who are eager to learn English. Please accept our offer, and family members are permitted to come with you to Japan but we cannot pay for their plane tickets.
Yours Sincerely,
ESL Japan Board of Education.”
My stepfather is the owner of a large business selling plant products for well, of course, plants. You’d be surprised how many people care about their plants! It’s a big success and he hardly has to work because, well, he has a lot of workers working for him already. My mother and stepfather usually go around to different countries for ‘their’ vacation, while they leave my brother and I alone at home. They’ve gone to places like Florida, Vietnam, India, England, Sweden, Hawaii, etc.. Basically, they’ve practically been to half of the places in the world, all without us. This time it should be different! We’re all going to move to Japan and live there!
We currently live in a ‘not-to-shabby-but-there’s-bugs-everywhere’ kind of house. Literally, there’s tiny pitch black spiders with extremely long legs, spinning webs in every corner within the house. To make matters worse, my mother always barges into my room when I’m sleeping and opens the window. What’s so bad? My window has no net to keep out bugs, birds, and insects. One time I woke up and there was a dead ladybug next to me. Not only that, my room was filled with bugs and insects that morning. I refused to go to my room that entire day. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not scared of bugs! I just don’t like them. Yeah, that’s all. My mom’s lousy excuse for opening the window was that, “You’re room is so messy, how could you breathe? You need fresh air.” My room is not messy! As well as, I could so breathe!
Anyways, I’ve had a stepfather ever since last year. My biological mother and father got a divorce when I was about six years old. Due to fighting or some weird stuff like that. I currently live with my mother although, it’s written in some law thing that I was supposed to be taken in by my father and that my brother was to be with my mother. Oh well, some things should just remain a mystery.
My brother is six years older than me and he treats me like a slave. Ever since I could remember, which was probably around senior kindergarten, he’s made me do all of his chores and if I refused he’d chase me around with a broom. That broom wasn’t used just for scaring me. Oh no, no, no. When I refused, he’d take it out and beat me. Or when I was doing the chore too slow, he’d take it out and beat me. From folding clothes, sweeping the floor, dusting, mopping, and even washing the dishes, at five years old too.
One time, while I was folding clothes in my parent’s bedroom (where the computer just happened to be), my brother was using the computer (as always) but this time, instead of a broom, he brought a pellet gun. You know those pellet guns, right? Where you pull the trigger, forcing the pellet to hit the cap and then it makes a deafening noise. Well, my brother just happened to be the completely insane, psycho lunatic who thought that it’d be ‘funny’ to remove the cap of the pellet gun and shoot it at me. I don’t really recall the retarded excuse he used to make him think it was alright to shoot me. It was probably, “You’re folding the clothes too slow,” or “Why are you looking at the computer?!”
I just ‘happened’ to be a witch one Halloween (actually, that’s not true, I was a witch every Halloween). Anyways, when my mother and father left for work the day after taking me out for Halloween, my brother would take the plastic broom from my costume and… Yes, he’d hit me. He’s just that cruel. I could still remember the broom. Around it was a pretty black silk cloth with a lined pattern. I guess it was to make the broom look more witch-like. I can’t believe I still listen to him. The past must have scarred me. I mean, seriously, I was five. That would totally scar any five year old for life. He beat me until that plastic broomstick broke.
Now, I’m 13 and I try to keep my distance. I try not to see him and often lock myself in my room so he can’t talk to me. It works well but what worked really well was that time before I moved. Before I moved to this lousy house I lived in a two bedroom apartment. It was my brother, my aunt, my cousin and I, in that apartment. My mother was living in some other house with, people.. It was a two bedroom apartment so, my brother got his own room and my aunt shared a room with my cousin. I, who was always cursed, resided in the living room. To keep my brother out of my life, because I had absolutely no privacy seeing as my room was in the living room, I made a great friend named Christal. I always hung out with her and we would have so much fun that time would go by so fast. I’d always come home at about twelve a.m. when everyone’s asleep and that’s how I lived my life. But then we moved to this damn house. It’s so far from Christal, to tell you the truth, I really didn’t want to move and I didn’t want to make any other friends, seeing as the same thing would probably happen. So my conclusion was to lock myself in my room everyday after school and on the weekends as well. I moved into this house with my brother, mother, and stepfather while my aunt and cousin stayed at the apartment.
My mother has pitch black, shoulder length hair with red streaks which you can see from three blocks away. She’s allowed to constantly dye her hair but she won’t let me, it’s so unfair. Her eyes are a nice brown color when she’s out in the sun, but they look like a normal dark brown while inside. She’s a core teacher in ‘Joseph Brant Senior Public School’, meaning she teaches History, Math, Geography, and English. Her specialty is English, she likes it a lot. It sometimes scares me when she speaks all formal to me, which is rarely. But when she does, it almost feels like she’s not really my mother but some stranger treating me like, well, a stranger.
My stepfather has short, jet black hair. He’s short, chubby, and nice, I guess. I don’t really like to socialize with him, seeing as every time he’s near I feel this eerie uncomfortable-ness. It’s really freaky actually, whenever my stepfather and I are left alone like that one time we were the only ones eating at the dining table, uneasiness filled my mind and I felt like I didn’t belong there so I stuffed everything in my mouth, quickly washed the plate along with the utensils I used, then I ran up to my room.
My brother is probably well explained to you. Well, his personality at least. He has really short hair and when I say ‘really’, I mean really. His natural hair color is black and he has eyes so black that it doesn't even look real. Even when he steps out into the sun, it’s still pitch black. He’s about, a little bit taller than me, and his face is covered in zits, while I don’t have any. Speaking of which, my mother and biological father don’t have zits either. It’s probably his punishment for being so evil all his life.
Now about me! I’m a girl, about 5.1”. Personally, out of my whole family, I'd have to say I loved my father the most. He’s probably the one that cares about me the most, or the only one that acts like it. I loved to go outside but now I trap myself in my room and refuse to make friends. After moving away from Christal, I guess I’ve become one of those antisocial type of people. Oh, right. I have really dark brown hair that it almost looks black, unless I’m outside in the sunlight. After begging, begging, begging, and pleading to the point where I thought I’d lose my voice, my mother let me streak my hair just once for my school picture. There are still light brown streaks above my dark brown hair. I also have bangs that go all the way down to my chin, they’re usually just flicked to the side of my face because they’re always in front of my eyes. I --
“Joanna, are you done packing up yet?!”
“No, not yet!!”
“Hurry up, we have to get ready to leave for tomorrow morning. Pack up your things and go to bed.”
“Yeah, yeah, your majesty..”
“Excuse me, did you say something?”
“No mom!”