Love is no fairytale.

Stephanie is a 16 year old girl who lives in a foster home with her two younger siblings. Betrayed by those who should care about her more than anything, her mum and dad, can she ever trust again? Will she ever believe in fairytales? And what happens when there's a new mystery boy at Oakley Children's Home?


1. "..I'm No Princess. And Love Is No Fairytale.."

We all know the stories, a princess gets awoken by a kiss... They live happily ever after. An ogre meets a princess... They live happily ever after. A princess meets a beast... They live happily ever after. A pauper meets a damn fairy godmother, sneaks out the house, stays out too late meets a prince then eventually lives happily ever after. Well I'm no princess. And love isn't a fairytale. 

I'm an ordinary 16 year old girl. I go to school, sit exams, deal with drama, go to work, deal with more drama and so on. I don't have a fairy godmother watching over me ready to turn me into a princess or to turn my school bus into a carriage. I have myself. 

My parents split up a few years ago, I was 10 and had to choose who I wanted to live with. It's almost as if I had to choose who my favourite was, my mum or my dad. I chose none. I live in a foster home. My dad used to hit me, my mum would sit there, watching, doing nothing to stop him. Her eyes vacant. His eyes full of rage. His blood full of alcohol. My younger brother screaming for him to stop, shielding our youngest sisters eyes. It wouldn't work. So here we are. In Oakley children's home. I'm a 5"9, average size, tan skinned girl with long curly brown hair and green eyes. 

My brother, Dylan, is only a year younger than me, we look so similar people just assume we're twins, the only difference is our eye colours, mines green like dads, his is brown like mums. So is our little sisters, Kayla (short for Michaela). 

Oh and my name? Biologically it's Stephanie Conway. But I don't respond to that anymore. My name is Stephanie Monroe. Call me by his surname and I'll ignore you. I already have his eye colour and their blood running through my body and it makes me sick. The day he started hitting me and she stopped caring for me is the day I stopped being their daughter. I looked after Dylan and Kayla, I made their dinner, fixed their wounds, tucked them in at night, picked them up from school. And that's what hurt mum the most. That her own precious little kids came to me for anything, for everything. 

My name is Stephanie Monroe, if you care enough I'll speak to you next time, tell you more about myself. What I've gotten up to. How I am. 


Thank you for reading this first chapter of my second story! If you're a Directioner then jump on over to my story 'Irishistable' which I'm still continuing alongside this one(: 
All my love as always -Maya xoxoxoxo

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