Ugly?

Amy Mcgill has never experienced love for anyone but her family and she thinks that maybe she is the only one in her year 9 class who doesn't wear make-up. Should she be worried? Should she change in order to fit in? Should she ignore her differences and stay true to her self? This is a story that follows Amy as she tries for the first time in her life to fit in with the crowd.

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1. The evil alarm clock, the breakfast traditions and me and my past.

Monday 10th May 

7:00-Alarm goes off 

" RRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG" ...

" AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!" .

 My eyes opened slowly and had to squint due to the bucketfuls of light that were poaring through my french windows, instantly making me wake up properly. This meant that sadly the snooze button was no longer an option. It was almost as if the evil alarm and the equally evil sun were working together, hatching an evil plan to drag me from my warm sheets and out into the evil cold of the fresh morning air. I know. Evil. Anyway, after slamming my hand down on my alarm clock ( No, I had no intention of killing it. Yes, I was just switching it off. ) I reluctantly peeled myself from my comfy squishy duvet and planted my feet on the freezing wooden planks of my bedroom floor. I stomped moodily along the landing and down the annoying stairs to see my bright eyed, bushy tailed, perfectly made up mother spreading the traditional countrylife butter and sainsburys marmalade on my traditional belindas white thin sliced bread ( which was now obviously toast ). She smiled a white perfect teethy smile and wound me up in a powdery perfumey hug. I loved the smell of her, it reminded me of all my childhood memories. 

" Good morning darling " said Mum, as she pushed the plate of perfect toast towards me. I took the plate and picked up a piece.

" Morning Mum " I replied as I stuffed it in my mouth.

As usual Mum waited until I had finished my toast, then she passed me a glass of tropicana orange, apple and mango juice. This was what I had always had since I was a kid and the energising, orangey, liquid never got old.

" Are you ready for your first day back in year 9 ?" She questioned after she had taken my plate and cup and put them in the dishwasher.

" Mum it's not the first day back, it's just the first day back after half term " I said sulkily.

" We'll it's still A first day back and that signals the chance for a new start " Mum said wisely. " I could always take you for a haircut or a manicure, pedicure or full on MAKEOVER before you go to school if you wanted Amy, I know all the girls were bullying about your looks last term and maybe we can change that for you? ". 

UUUHHHH I was so embarrassed when she started talking about changing my style and my looks because it was obvious she was embarrassed to have such an ugly daughter when she was so beautiful. I ( sadly ) have inherited my dads looks though I haven't seen him for years. He left when I was 5 and I guess that was the last me and mum ever heard or spoke of him. I'm not sad I just wish I could have looked like Mum not him.

" No mum I'll just ignore the girls if they start on at me and I'll be late for school if we do its already 8:00.. OMG IT'S ALLREADY 8 !!! I'm gonna be so late ill miss tutor !" ,I screamed! 

I ran upstairs and hurriedly striped,washed and pulled on my horrible uniform. Not that it matters of course. I'm so ugly no one bothers to look at me apart from sadie Lucy and the the rest of their crew anyway. In fact THEY don't even look at me when they bully me! They shield their eyes and if they catch a quick glance at me they yowl in pain.

I tug a brush through my hair whisk my toothbrush around my mouth quickly before I gurgle mouth wash ( I may be ugly but bad breath is one thing I will not tolerate! )  slide my feet in to my new Clarks slip-ons and tumble down the stairs. Mum being Mhas already packed my bag with all the right books and my lunch ( not that I'll eat it I think I may be getting a bit on the podgy side ) so I sling it over my blazered shoulder and turn around to give mum a quick peck on the cheek. Then with that I SLAM the door OPEN and fly out and down the road. 

As I'm running I think about a lot of things. Most of them include thoughts of whether my new teachers are going to like me and whether I will catch the bus on time and also whether Sadie and  Lucy will carry on with their little titters and snide remarks this term. But then another thing popped into my mind. You cant slam a door open. 

 

Authors note: That last bit about slamming the door open. I guess you can really slam a door open if you push it really hard. Its just most people say they slam a door when they close it and when they push hard when they open a door they tend to use words such as pulled. I'm sorry for any confusion and it just came to me in the spur of moment. Signed : The Author xxx

P.S I am working on the next chapter and tell me any comments you have on my writing xxx

 

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