Porcelain Chapter 1 - Who'd want to be the fairest anyway? Who'd want to be fairest anyway? I often replayed this question in my mind while curled up in bed, tangled in my earphones while the soft, mesmerising music filled my body. I mean, it's not as if all power comes with beauty? Power mainly comes from intelligence, determination - not from making yourself pleasing to the eye. I thought about this for a while, then sat up, releasing myself from the mess. It's 10pm. Dad would have been home from work by now, and all the suffering would have ended. But he's gone, and he's not coming back. I got up and stumbled in the darkness over to my mirror, switched the light on and sighed at the reflection that stared so sincerely back at me. I never really payed much attention to my appearance, like everyone else, but then I really did realise, I looked awful. Weeks of restless nights draped under my eyes and my skin fashioned a very ghost-like glow. Strands of dark hair were covering my face like a wall of ivy, I sighed again. Unexpectedly, the door sprang open. It was her. Helena Grimhilde, the woman who I had loathed for the few years I had known her - and now, all hell was about to break loose. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP?!" she screeched at me, while I hurried as quick as I could back to the safety of my bed. "Why were you looking in that mirror this time of night?!" I pulled my covers up as high as they would reach without being untucked, not daring to look into her glassy eyes. "Well?!" She raged as she spat in my face, purposely of course, her fists pulsing with those cold blooded veins. "Don't you think for one second - that I'll forget this young lady, you know full well that you should have been asleep twenty minutes ago!" She slapped me hard across my face, and I could feel my blood boil underneath my skin when the tingling sensation set in. She hesitated for a moment, breathing heavily, then stood up and asserted herself. I couldn't see her, but I could almost feel the smirk upon her lips. "Tomorrow, tomorrow I want every millimetre of this house clean - so clean, that I could look at every object or piece of furniture and not see one mark or scratch on them. And if there is one, well missy, you will be wishing that you had never been born." Emphasising those last words, she stormed out the room, slamming and almost unhinging my door. I waited a moment, not letting a single breath escape through my dry lips, then relaxed my muscles. I grabbed a tissue from the box on my bedside table and wiped the tears that had gathered in shock after she slapped me. Besides that, I wasn't hurt. I had been lucky. Lying back down to face the ceiling, I looked up blankly, my eyes drifting over all the cracks and peels in the plaster. It was late, and I needed sleep. I searched for my earphones and my phone, which was now on the floor due to what had just happened, grabbed them, and placed the buds in my ears. Then slowly, ever so slowly, I let the eerie, enchanting sounds pull me down, as I fell deeply into a reckless, unconscious sleep... The next morning, while the sun was intensely beaming through my window, I groaned and looked at my clock for the time. 7am. I had overslept by half an hour, and if I had any hope of catching the bus on time, I'd better hurry. Quickly undressing out of my pyjamas, I shoved on my uniform, brushed my knotted hair (which was agony) and sprinted out the door with my rucksack. No time for breakfast I guess, probably wouldn't have been left some if Helena had awake anyway. I ran to the edge of the estate, fortunately, the bus wasn't here yet. Catching my breath for a moment, I started slowly pacing over to where a young boy stood, he was around 6 foot, fairly muscular and had floppy brown hair and green eyes. "Cole!" I breathed as I hugged him; he smelt vaguely of some sort of new cologne, it was nice. "Ebony! How are you?" he said, for some reason frowning at my face. "I'm fine," I answered, examining his face for any notification as to why he was doing this. "What's up with you?" "Your cheek," he said as he looked back into my eyes. "It's so red." I touched my cheek softly; I could feel my blood boil under my translucent skin, I had totally forgot about it. "Oh, that - it's er, it's nothing, don't worry. It was really hot in my room last night; I must have got a rash." I stuttered, while trying to not make eye contact. Cole relaxed his tense expression and nodded his head, but then spoke with the same concern. "But it's only on one side of your face Ebony," he said slowly, lightly touching my cheek. "Er," I murmured, I had to come up with an excuse, and fast. I liked Cole, but I wasn't ready for him to know everything, not yet. "That was the side facing the window - I had my curtains open so it must have overheated." I whispered eventually. I thought that this was a pretty lame excuse, but it would have to do. "Alright." sighed Cole, who looked as though he still had unanswered questions on his mind. "Come on we're going to miss the bus!" Cole then disappeared amongst the swarm of people so I became alone at the back. I didn't like being without Cole, he was my only friend. He understood what it felt like to be new at this school because he moved from England a few years ago. I was lucky to have him. The second after making my way over to the queue, I realised I was being pulled backwards, away from all the other pupils. I could feel someone breathing on my neck heavily, so I turned to look at their face. It was Charlize, the most popular girl at our school. All the boys thought that she was beautiful, and they had a right to think so. She looked like a model, the height, the body, the tan. People wanted to be her, to have that extremely light hair contrasting with those deep brown eyes. "Let me through then?!" she ordered as she pushed me out the way, but then she stopped walking, and turned around. "What the hell is up with your face?!" she sniggered, along with the jeers of the rest of her gang. I clutched my cheek with my hand and started to walk quickly back to the queue, as it had shortened rapidly. I was not in the mood for Charlize's taunts today, I wanted to knuckle down and get some reading in. Reading...that would make me feel better. Just when I was about to get on the bus, Cole showed up in the aisle. He held his hand out to me. "Ebony?" he asked, clearly wanting to discuss where I had been. "You know what, never mind. Get on the bus slow coach!" The day was just beginning.

Porcelain Prologue Er, hi. My name is Ebony White. I am fifteen years old and was born in Dufftown in Scotland. I didn't really have a very enjoyable childhood - my mother died giving birth to me, so I don't know much about her at all. All I can do is paint a picture of her in my mind from what Dad used to tell me. He said she was extremely beautiful, but I honestly doubt that I inherited those looks. Now I live here, in Berlin, after moving a couple of years ago with Dad after he lost his job. But as soon as I got here, I wanted to go straight home. Why? Because everyday while he was at work, I would have to put up with his new, self obsessed girlfriend - Helen Grimhilde, who can only be described with one word. Vile. I guess I never realised how vicious she could be until Dad passed away a few months ago, I knew that when Dad was around, she was almost like a seductress, and he was caught in her web. But after he died...everything changed. Everything. I'm not sure where this #life will lead me, but as long as I can survive her wrath - well, that would be...fortunate.

Porcelain ~ as @Burrfoot suggested, I will repost in chapters

Wattpad Anyone? Does anyone here have wattpad? If so I'd love to get a few more followers so if you checked my page out I'd do the same for you guys

I Guess it Feels Like This I guess it feels like this, a deep pit of blackness inside me. Raging, raging and screaming yet no words slip out for you to hear. It feels like I am empty, yet filled with everything and nothing. Passion burns like a cold fire through my weakened heart's fabric and sets alight any other emotion I used to have. All pieces of ash laying in the dark. Alone. Forgotten. I guess it feels like this, for some, to feel as if their soul is being stolen from them, taken into the fog never to be seen again. I guess it feels like this, to remember those unbearable hours in the silent abyss of numbness, to feel worth nothing. But I guess it feels like this, radiant, shining, to have someone listen to the words you have been forever longing to say.