Sketch Me.

Damn Plane.

Okay so Hi, I hope y'all liked the prolouge :) My name isn't actully Marissa, that's just my wattpad name because I want to keep such information private :) and I don't want my friends to find me because if they read what I write, it'd be way too awkward. Except my BFFs, though ;) you know who you are :D Okay now enough with the babbling... ENJOY!

*Catharine's POV*

Devasted. I was completely, utterly devasted when my hand fumbled around in my backpack and only an old chewing gum and my old toy keys came in it's grasp. How could I be so stupid? How forget my art portfolio in a country I won't be visiting for years? That portfolio contained a drawing- more like scribbling- of my beloved grandmother when I first held a pencil, and drawings I drew ever since.

And yet, I'm so clumsy and stupid for not re-checking if I've got everything I need.

First, I loose my sketch of that beautiful boy I saw in the park the last time I was in Doncaster. And now this?

This trip has only brought me bad luck so far.

It's a sign. A sign that going to Malaysia is not a good idea, a voice at the back of my mind told me.

I shook it off and reminded myself that there's no going back now. You're already on a plane to the destined country and I know I musn't cower away everytime I think of my mother.

My dear mother- note the sarcasm- who lives in the country of my nightmares, Malaysia and ofcorse, she'll be there to meet me and to check up on me every few hours of a day in my dorm room to make sure I haven't done anything 'wrong again.'

Every child would want the ground to swollow them up if they weren't trustworthy in the eyes of their mother, it becomes your mission to make sure your mother always had a good impression of you. But in my case, well I'm used to it. 16 years of my life living with the woman who doesn't have the least amount of trust or respect for you and the next two years living with people in Doncaster who know all the latest gossip about Claura Mohsin, my mother, can do that to you.

My mother being a model is always the center of attention. And what she assumes, she confesses it to the media and bam, rumours flying around the whole globe about me.

Her accusation was utterly disgusting may I add. And because of that, I had to spend my whole life living between people who saw nothing but a slut, a whore in me. Jeff was probally the only person nice to me and that blue eyed dude? He was probally the only one who didn't spit at me while passing by or making rude faces.

You could call it misery. Yes, definately misery.

I scoffed out loud which caused the passenger by my side to glare at me with one eye closed, awoken from his sleep.

"Keep it down will ya' madam?" he hissed and I nodded stiffly, sitting upright in my seat.

And after a lot of snores, gargles, sounds of people puking and unneccessery announcements, the plane touched the ground and we landed safely. And I swear I was ready to kiss the ground once I got out of this damn plane.