One More Chance

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My life started of as nothing. Literally nothing. Other babies have parents when they are born, houses to move into and a decorated nursery to play in. Some have a teddy bear or doll that's important to them for a period of their childhood, before they 'grow out' of it.

I had nothing. I have no mother to tell me about the day I was born, whether it was sunny or rainy. The earliest story about me that I told wasn't being born. It was being found. I was found in the car park of an old abandoned cinema, wrapped around in a rag, screaming for my life inside a damaged car. A woman was walking her dog, when it sniffed me out.

I have the newspaper clippings. It's old, the millimetres around the edges turning into dust every year. Even if the writing is illegible, you can still make out the photo. A woman, with a blob of bright yellow on her head, holding something white with her arms. The yellow blob is her hair, the white thing is me. That's all I could make out in the photograph. I never saw the woman again in my life. Or the dog, for that matter.

I grew up with a mother figure to look up to. She may not have been my real mother, not my blood mother, but she was the person who caught my first words, saw my first steps and bought me my first doll. I called her Mum, and however untrue it might seem to others, for me she was my one and only mother.

She was beautiful. Wavy blonde hair, always tied in a messy bun. Kind eyes, small but delicate, green in colour. She may not have been the cover-girl of The Vogue, but she was beautiful to my eyes. Not pretty, but beautiful. There's a distinctive difference. The hospital had named me after the brand of the sheet that covered me, but she had shortened the name into something more modern and stylish.

She had a husband as well. He was to take the role as my father, because that was the promise he had made when he signed those adoption forms. But I don't remember him. I remember a deep gruff voice that was often around during those warm nights, but apart from that, I have no memory of him. As far as I know, there is an empty hole where the name 'father' should come in. Maybe he shouldn't deserve the title father. He was there, then he disappeared, leaving both of us shattered, frail and weak, but determined to shine without him.

I had no siblings, but I was never lonely. I had the girl opposite my house to play with. I can still remember her long silky hair, dark as oil. I was jealous and I wanted to have straight hair instead of the big curls attached to my head. Others may have seen my hair as something amazing, but for me it was like medusa's snakes had stuck to my head.

When I told my mother this, she laughed it off as if it were a silly joke. When she saw how upset I was, she used her hair straighteners to straighten out my hair. It may only have lasted for one hour, but for me that one hour was priceless. Maybe it was the effort my mother had made, maybe it was the fact that I had silky looking hair, but I loved that one hour, as it had stuck to my memory.

I didn't always hate my hair. During primary school, I used my hair as a shield to hide away from the world. I hid my face from teachers to avoid being called on. I hid my face from the nice ones to avoiid making friends and becoming too close to someone. Most of all, I hid my face from the bullies who all noticed my depressed eyes, turned down mouth and pallid complexion.

When I was finally free of them, I hid my face again, but not using my hair. I hid it with fake happiness, which took over the dark circles under my eyes and turned my cheeks rosy and eyes shiny.

This could have been what earned me my job. It was any girl's dream. There were queues and queues of girls wanting to be what I was. And I enjoyed it a lot. Modelling earned me fame, money and love. Modelling made me into the perfect girl, role model or girlfriend. I may have had a troubled childhood, but i was never alone in college.

I never realized how perfect my life actually was. When I graduated from college, I did not even consider university. Why? I had all the top modelling agencies begging for me. I built up my career, like those games you play where you develop a city or farm. At first you have nothing, just a bit of land and money. Then gradually you add a building, getting excited every time you move up a level. Soon it becomes a habit. Like that, I had I nothing except experience and some money. And I ended up becoming a familiar face to people who lived halfway across the world.

Who knew, though, that one small mistake could change my life completely and take away everything I took for granted. One night. One party. One decision. It could provoke an earthquake in your city. But in the end everything's a mess and you have no money to fix it. Just yourself and a mess.

But my whole life, I've always been lucky. And I had one more chance. One more opportunity. Of course I took it.

This is my second book on Wattpad, and I am hoping to put more effort into it and making it a whole lot better than my first book. Of course this means that updates will take longer, at least a week.

Song of the Week- Not giving up - The Saturdays

Book of the Week- The Undomestic Goddess- Sophie Kinsella

Wattpad Book of the Week- Finding Love In a Coffee Shop- Jordan Lynde

I'll be doing that for every chapter. ;)

Choc Chip Cookies and Muffins!