disclaimer ⏩
this book is based off of Scott Westerfeld's Uglies, Pretties, Specials, Extras series, and I am in no way claiming ownership of this idea, story line, or the characters referenced from his series. I however am writing my own spinoff, with my own ideas, and basically this is a fanfic of his book and some of my favorite bands. Enjoy.

the sky was the color of ink, the same color that represented a broken ink pen. the color was eccentric, I looked at the sky in a bitter-sweet way, I wonder if the sky was prettier in New Pretty Town; everything was pretty in New Pretty Town. that's what everyone believed, that is where the Pretties lived after all.

my name was Youngblood, first name Bandit, ID number 0118967, and I was an Ugly.

Uglyville was something all in its own, it was the place children lived from ages five through seventeen, the law changed after my sister went through the system. In a matter of weeks I was going to be a Pretty, young, wild, free, and most importantly, I was going to be beautiful.

Today was Decembré eleventh, 3039, and my birthday was three weeks away. I sat my room, on my freshly made bed, fiddling with my interface ring.

"Room awaken." I commanded, and soon my once dark room came to light, the hologram and technical lights shined, waiting for me to make another command.

"Projector on." I commanded using as much authority as I could muster.

"Projector on; say a command." The robotic voice, Conscious, replied in return.

"Pull up, Generator." I stood up, already knowing what was to happen next, as I had looked at this program a thousand times before.

"Full body scan required, continue?" Conscious echoed back to me.

You'd think by now this machine, as smart as it is, would have figured out it should have just continued with its job; I'd looked at would be my new appearance dozens of times before.

"Would you like to continue, yes or no?" Conscious asked again as I hadn't answered the first time.

"Scan away." I replied, and it wasn't even half a second later before the lasers were trailing up and down my body, scanning every single inch of my body, each pigment of light tracing every imperfection and capturing my entirety in less than seven seconds.

"Processing request.. Processing request.." The machine said as it loaded a diagram of what I looked like.

I flinched at my own appearance, you'd think that after eleven years of dealing with how I look, I'd have gotten used to it; I don't think anyone ever quiet got used to how it felt to look and be an Ugly.

I was the perfect picture of being an Ugly. My eyes were unevenly spread apart, and my eyebrows were somewhat bushy, not to mention the color of my eyes. My irises were this painfully dull grey-blue color, they seemed tired and they were far from impressive. My nose was crooked, in my eyes it looked like someone had crinkled up the skin of my nose and gave it two breathing holes (nostrils). I had stretch marks along my hips and stomach, from the height I'd never acquired. My hair was long and frizzy, although people called it curly, I called it matted and untamable. The color represented an oily black, sure seemed as if it got greasy fast, just like the real thing. I was stalky and somewhat round, my body had a surprising number of scars, from the uncountable number of adventures I'd had with my best friend Felix, before he became Pretty, leaving me Ugly and alone.

Tired of staring at my mirror-shattering reflection, I muttered out, "Room off, Night mode on." before crawling back under the covers.
.
.
.
.

It was one-thirty-three in the morning when I woke up again, I smiled deviously, slipping my interface ring from my finger. My interface ring, although it was key to everything, was also how the Specials tracked my location, and held all of my personal information. I slid out of bed, placing my interface ring under my pillow, and much like how my sister taught me to, placed a not-much-bigger-than-me-and-dull-heater-that-let-off-as-much-heat-as-I-did under the blankets.

As I normally would, I pushed open the window, and removed the screen, glancing down at the silver-colored grass that came with winter. The coast seemed clear, not many people dared to challenge The City, but as it seemed, the Youngblood family didn't seem to listen to these rules.

Swallowing my temporary fear I leaped from the window sill, landing on the cold ground. Upon impact my knees buckled and I fell backwards, momentarily unbalanced, as I waited for my body to catch up with me. After a money or so of stunned stillness, I adjusted my back-pack that hung loosely off my shoulder before continuing on my way.

Off in the distance I could see the sky above New Pretty Town lighting up in array of colors; party lights glowing bright through out the mansion and part towers, and the sky above me glowing as New Pretties launched safety flares into the night.

I made way through the winding and vacant streets of Uglyville, reaching the first trail of many that lead through the Pleasure Gardens, all of these crossings lead to a bridge over the river that divided Uglies from Pretties.

The Pleasure Garden was alive, the noises of euphoria mixing with the songs of frogs and the orchestra of crickets, leaving me feeling uncomfortable.

I guess they don't call it a Pleasure Garden for nothing.

.
.
.
.

I'd snuck into New Pretty Town many times through out my life, but never by myself, and never this far. Felix and I had always snuck out together to watch the Pretties be wild, together. In my time there I had smuggled four safety flares, a bungee jacket, and a few other things of that nature.

The fake leaves crunched and snapped beneath my feet as I walked through the gardens, the sounds of sirens echoing through the strangely quiet atmosphere. Thoughts of panic and worry swirled inside of me, what if I had hit a trip wire by mistake and they now knew I was not in my room?
Ridiculous.

The looming thoughts hung above my head, nearly distracting me from the sound of an incoming hover-craft. I panicked, diving into one of the bushes; I prayed I hadn't been seen; not yet, not here, not now.

I dared a glance above me and saw the entire night sky was lit up with flashing lights, specials, and middle-pretties, all of them on high alert. I was too far from home to go back without getting caught, and I was without my interface ring, I was screwed.

The middle-pretties continued to whiz by me, scanning through the end of the final garden by the river. I took this as a chance to make a run for it, my stupidity gracing me with the overwhelming sudden bursts of confidence.

I'd only walked a few feet outside of the gardens, a few meters away from my destination, when a hand reached out and grabbed my foot, pulling me into one of the bushes.

I'd been caught.

rebellion (l.t)Read this story for FREE!