Pearl White ~A One Direction FairyTale~

You think you know how the story goes. Snow White meets some dwarves, eats an apple, falls asleep, gets kissed by a prince and lives happily ever after.

If only my life were that simple. My name's Pearl. Pearl White. And unfortunately for me, I'm never even going to get to meet my prince. Because his name is Liam Payne, and he's a member of the boy band One Direction.

Cover made by the amazing user NathanielStanley! Thank you so much!

250Likes
537Comments
13361Views
AA

5. Roommates

I look out of the black-tipped windows. On the corner, there's a woman strolling by in pumps and a pea coat. I can't help but be envious of the comfort of my previous life. I may have only gotten ten quid occasionally but I ate well, had access to luxury items, and had a very cosy room to myself. I shiver in the draft as the broken window pane howls with the wind.

"Here's your shower ticket, your meal ticket, and your clothing privileges ticket, Miss."

I jerk my head away from the window to focus on the father's clean-shaven face and neatly combed hair.

"Sorry?" I say, blushing, embarrassed for not paying attention. He smiles kindly and hands me a towel, with the tiny coupons.

"Don't lose them," he says, motioning towards the slips of paper. "Every day you get them, but if you decide to do drugs, have a relationship with another resident, or wake up late and not help with the chores, then you lose your daily privileges."

"Of course," I nod, understandingly, and dab at the tears overflowing from my eyes. I just can't stop crying. I give a little sniffle, and he hands me a package of tissues.

 I have no intentions of losing my privileges.

Right now, being here instead of on the streets is a privilege in itself, the officer explained. 

"Saint Mungo's Hostel here will be your home for at most two years. There's only around two hundred or so people; they train each person for jobs. You'll also be helping in the gardens come spring, I think there's one over at Mint Street Park. They can set up a lot for you or something, I'm sure. Or at least until this," he pointed at the restraining order, "is sorted out. Remember, your court date is in fifteen days. If they declare it invalid, and I'm sure they will, even though I'm not lawyer, you can return home and hopefully finish school." The officer pulled out a pen and circled the date of the court hearing in bright red before leaving me at the doorstop of a brick-layered building.

"Don't worry my child," smiles the father, compassionately, interrupting my thoughts again."Your dormitory is up on the third floor. The second one on the left after you get off the lift. Each room consists of four bunk beds, so eight residents. They're mixed dormitories, but there's constant video surveillance to discourage criminal activity."

I nod again, not really paying attention, tears still streaming haphazardly down my cheeks. I'm floating right now, still in between disbelief and outrage and confusion. Is this really happening?

My future, which was seemingly so secure in all those plans I made in my mind, modeling, a fortune, Liam Payne. Everything just feels like dim fairy tales and lies. Harsh reality sits on my chest. I was such an idiot in my own little world, oblivious to the extent of Celia's hatred. She yelled at me, sure, but I never thought she would ever do anything like this.

I push open the door to Room 302. Four identical bunk beds lie in one half of the other room, the other space has a desk with a lamp, a couch and a bookcase, and I can see a bathroom door. It's cozy, but right now it might as well be a prison. It's hard to believe that a few hours ago I was sitting with Anne and Andrew under the stairwell. It's hard to believe that a few hours ago I thought I'd get to see One Direction live, or be a model or be anything. 

But at least I have a chance, I think, shaking myself out of my self-pity. I still have this small opportunity, and I'm going to make the most out of it. I will not let Celia destroy me. I remember what the policeman said about the restraining order. It should have never been validated. Hopefully at the court meeting, it will be torn up. I hope. I make a mental note to ask the Father in the morning for resources for legal counsel.

I stare back at the beds, focusing my thoughts. Which one is mine? They're all the same, all neatly made little rows of blue sheets. Do I even have roommates? There are little to no personal effects, everything is bare except for several books on the shelf and a well-worn teddy.

I set my bag on one of the beds and go over to read the spines of the books.

Learn to Overcome Alcoholism

Being the Best You

Surviving the GCSEs

Career Guide 2013

I wrinkle my nose. How boring. They're all self-help books; not a single novel to be found. I open the Alcoholism book for fun.

Step 1: Get counseling. Whether it's with a support group or a therapist, you absolutely cannot conquer alcoholism alone. It's ok to ask for help, it may even be.....

Boring. Dry like a pork chop left on the grill too long. Absentmindedly I set it on the desk and take out my required reading, plopping down on a random bottom bunk. Dickens is quite wordy, so my eyelids begin to droop.

"I'm so utterly pissed about Devon getting kicked-"

"You know the rules man, he sure went out with a bang, he did, smoking Mary Jane with Sherril, damn I heard they were having se-"

"Who pulled out the book and didn't put it back where it belongs? You can't just leave a book out because-" 

"Yo, who gives a rat's arse about the book, some person put their bag on my bed-"

"Wait, quiet, everyone, look here. There's a girl in my bed and she's absolutely stunning-"

"Yeah right, Allen, you're just thinking with your willy again, mate. Oh shiii-"

"Shhhhhh. She's sleeping."

I open my eyes. No less than seven men are staring at me from the foot of the bed.

"Hi," I offer up meekly. My throat is dry, so I clear it. "Sorry, I'm Pearl White. I guess we're roommates now."

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...