Why is life always so predictable? Every morning is the same for me; i wake, i wash, i dress, i eat a soggy piece of toast, the doorbell rings, the home tutor sits in the same seat and asks if i'd like to start with maths or english. Almost every day of my life begins with that (or so it feels).

     I hate being home schooled. I'd much rather be surrounded by people in a bustling school corridor, rushing to my next class wih a bunch of friends. But thanks to my modeling career that's not possible.

    I know that thousands of girls would kill to be me, but prancing about a catwalk with cameras flashing in my face and clothes on that show off far too much of my flesh really is not a pretty way of living my teen years. I wait on the sofa near the door for the tutor to arrive at precisely 9.00 am.

    I hear approaching footsteps from outside and drag myself from the safety of the sofa to open the door. However no "ding dong" of the doorbell sounds leaving me suspicious. Suddenly a wad of envelopes and flyers get shoved through the letterbox.

    I sift through the junk throught with the odd bill and even a postcard from aunty annie who is holidaying in menorca. Then i find a rather official looking A4 envelope addressed to me! This made me very curious indeed so i tossed the other mail on the sideboard and ripped open the brown paper.

    Inside was a single letter which i took out and read carefully.

        Miss Leora Black,

                      We are pleased to inform you that you have won the'Belle of the Ball' competition and have been selected to model the new summer range of clothing for Minnie's, a worldwide luxury clothing brand. Please call this number as soon as possible to accept the contract.

                                Yours, Cefilia Jamison.

                                        Secretary of Minnie's.

     My hands are trembling and my head feels heavy. I've won the competition to model Minnie's! Wow! I first noticed the competition in a fashion magizine about a year ago and was bullied into entering by my family and friends. The auditions were months ago! I thought they'd forgotten about me!Do i really want to take this job? This could make my career but do i really want my career to be modeling?

    "Good morning sweetie!" my mum arrives downstairs. "ooh what's that you've got there?" she squeals in her sickly voice. I toss her the letter and sink into the sofa again.

    What shall i do?