The Ugly Rich Girl

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The Ugly Rich Girl

Excuse me, Mr. Manager, but do you have 'Prettiness' in stock?

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I stared in the mirror, and a hideous face stared back at me. Why couldn't I get cosmetic surgery? Because I would have to endure more pain and school. Simple pimple. Or, pimples if you're talking about me. My life was a horror movie when we first moved in to our house. It was a grand mansion, but of course no one at school knew that, because nobody was my friend and came over. No sleepovers, no slumber parties. I was a deprived child throughout elementary school, and my parents knew I didn't have any friends. Then, starting in sixth grade, a girl moved in to town with her mom. She started going to my school, and instantly became my friend, which of course meant she didn't have many friends either.

Cara was, and has been my best friend since the 6th grade. It hadn't changed, and we were both in 11th grade now. Who would want to hang out with me? I was a mess of a child, with millionaire parents who didn't give a damn about me. I didn't have one inch of beauty in me, and everything about me was a flaw. Everything except one thing - my voice.

I loved to sing. That was the only thing about me i didn't hate. I also had the fingers of a pianist. I would sing along to my piano that I played when my parents gone. We did have maids, but you could never hear the recording room if you weren't in it. I would record my songs I originally made, and store them in my closet, behind my boxes of untouched clothes. Not one person has found them yet, and I had intended to keep it that way.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts. Glancing at the clock in my bedroom, I found it was already 6:50. I walked over to my closet, and found a pair of gray sweatpants, and dark green under-armor. It was semi-cold in Virginia at this time of year. April was so-so, but still not warm. My closet was huge - one of those giant walk in ones. It has rows and rows of clothes I had never worn, and then my little section of clothes that I only wore. I had a lot of clothes that I did wear, but they were nothing compared to the designer jeans, tops, and (sadly) the dresses. I also had a few shelves of shoes, along with my many other accesories in the small room across the hall from my own. My mother always insisted that I should wear my designer clothes, but I always refused to. I would never wear those clothes. I hated them, and they would always be untouched in my closet.

A buzzing noise came from my room, and I walked out of my closet and closed the doors. I picked my phone up off my bed, and read the text I had just recieved.



From: Private

Recieved: 6:58 am

HAHAA! florence, youre a loser.



There was a link in the text, and I clicked on it. My phone sent me to the Internet. Was it another person harrassing me? Not again...

A video started. I turned up the volume on my phone.

"Hush, look, look at this!" I watched it as I saw a girl, and some dude, extremely far away. The camera zoomed in on the two people. I recognized them as the camera focused. The guy was my father, and the little girl was Cara, in sixth grade.

I turned my volume to the highest setting, and tried to listen as best as I could.

"-pay you, to be her friend."

"Like, actual money?" The man nodded.

"Just be her best friend, and I will give you five throusand dollars, every single week." The girl's eyes widened.

"Um, okay. I'll do it." The girl said. The video ended. I looked at the Youtube comments: "Fucking loser, Florence doesn't have a life." "KNEW IT! LOL!" "Haha, sucker."

My eyes were hot and my face started to burn.

My only friend had been paid to be my friend.

I really was an ugly rich girl.



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just a small part of the story, i really hope you guys don't think it sucks!

i promise, it will get better(:

vote, comment, fan?

shank you(;

becca ♥

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