The Pretty Project

(So I've decided to just delete the previous chapters and write the new book on the one everyone is already reading. I'm really excited to see your opinions on my changes. Xx)

Songs for this chapter -

Luck - American Authors

Believer - American Authors

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One mirror.

There is one mirror in my house, located in my mother's room. I don't mind not seeing myself more than once every six months. In fact, if I could, I would never look at myself ever again. This may seem extreme to others, but it's really not.

I am an Ugly.

It's not just my insecurities, no I truly am an Ugly. But it's more than that, honestly. I'm not just an ugly girl, I am an Ugly. There is a large difference. But at the same time, an enormous similarity.

To understand my story, one must understand my society. Sixty-seven years ago, the government instilled a new program. With this program came the separation of the country. The separation of the people into three categories. There are the Uglies, the Naturals, and the Pretties.

The Uglies where I belong, are a society of children, ages three to fifteen who are singled out. We are ostracized because of our hideous appearances. We were born this way, Ugly I mean. Mother says we are the nicest people to ever roam this Earth. We know we are Ugly, and so never are we selfish, or thinking of what could most benefit us.

The Naturals, where my mother belongs, are a society of children and adults born with beauty. They do not have to change themselves to be what society calls beautiful. Mother says while most of them are kind, there are those who are not so modest. There are some Naturals who believe they should be famous rather than the Pretties. But, unfortunately, nobody ever agrees with their claims.

The Pretties are a major society of beautiful men and women who have been surgically altered to be the worlds image of perfect. They are genetically engineered to be the most beautiful people the world has ever seen. This is where I will be going to live on my sixteenth birthday.

In three days.

Shuddering, I shut the leather bound journal, deciding that's enough for now. Tamara, my best friend, told me to keep a journal in hopes that I will be able to remember who I am. Not my name or anything, but my beliefs. The beliefs that make me who I am. I don't want to forget, but I don't know how to fight the inevitable...

"Maddison," Mother's voice sounds from down the stairs. Mother is.. odd. She is a Natural, but she behaves like an Ugly, toward me at least. She is reserved, constantly shutting me out. Never once has she said a simple "I love you" or praised me for anything I've done. I understand why it has to be this way, though. I just wish it could be different...

When I get down stairs my legs carry me to a yellow slip if paper, innocently laying on the table. Upon the paper is her hand writing, telling me she will not be back before I go to bd because her husband want to take her out tonight. But I don't mind, they haven't seen each other in two months.

When Uglies are born only the mother is permitted to raise them. The only way this would be changed is if the mother died. But even then, the motherless children are always put into group homes as a first option. I've never met my father, and if I have, I was too young to remember him. But I've always imagined what he might be like.

I used to imagine him having gentle, brown eyes, the same color as his tuffs of brown hair. In my dreams he was so kind, always putting me first. In my thoughts he loved me the way I've never been loved before. In my alternate universe, where everything is perfectly imperfect, he would fight to keep me away from the government's bloody surgery.