Her New Disguise is Butterflies

Once upon a time there was a fair princess who lived in a castle with her beloved father, who was the king of all the land. Though, the fair princess' life was far from perfect. She had a wicked step mother and one evil younger step sister. But the fair princess was looking for a handsome prince to sweep her off her feet and take her away from this life. But the princess knew, not all fairy tales have a happy ending.

Lets make a few alterations to this shall we?

Firstly, my dad has never and will never be a king. Oh no. His job is more like Sales Manager at Dixons. I do have a step mother though, Joanne, although I wouldn't call her evil. She's more of a fluffy bunny type. And step sister? No, I'm certain that Oliver's a boy, unless he's a gender confused dinosaur loving six year old. And I'm certainly not a princess. I don't have a crown, unless you count a plastic one I bought the last time we went to Blackpool.

Yes, I am a five year old stuck inside of fifteen year old body.

The one thing that is true, is that I am looking for Prince Charming. Not that I hold out much hope for finding one at my school.

Before we begin, I'd like to give you my sincerest apologies. I expect you were hoping this would be your average fairytale romance, but it won't be. Don't roll your eyes at me, I don't want to get in trouble for plagiarism because I ripped off Disney, do I?

And so, the story begins....

Wednesday 8th September would be the beginning of the new school year, the final year I would be forced to wear that disgusting burgundy jumper they call a uniform and the final year Mr Balmer would tut and shake his head at me because I'd forgotten what Pythagoras' theorem was. They were just the upsides of starting year eleven. The downsides were those dreaded GCSE's that would creep up on us in May and the second downside was that there would be new year sevens. More midgets trying to trip us up in the corridor and swearing at us, trying to act 'cool'.

So that brings me to why I'm stood in front of my bedroom mirror, applying layer upon layer of foundation to that one red spot on the end of my nose. This was my desperate attempt at making my skin appear flawless.

In the middle of me trying to blend the make up into my skin, my snotty nosed half brother had wandered into my room and picked up a bottle of moisturiser, squirting the white cream onto my carpet.

"Oliver," I growled, a blob of foundation resting on the tip of my index finger, I chased him out of my bedroom and down the stairs.

"Kids, stop running around," Joanne said, walking into the hall, waving around a knife that was streaked with butter. "Bliss, what have you got on your nose?"

I stopped in my attempt to attack Oliver with the blob of foundation and looked up at her. "Why whats wrong with it?"

"It's orange, go and wipe off the foundation, you're only drawing more attention to that spot."

I gasped, covering my nose with my hand and running off upstairs. I washed the make up off and studied the spot, poking the tip of my nose.

I'd need a paper bag over my head for the rest of the day, just so the other students didn't reel back in horror.

"Bliss! Sacha's here!" Joanne called up the stairs.

Damn you, Sacha, for choosing this day to come early.

I pouted at my reflection and grabbed the tube of toothpaste, squeezing a tiny blob onto my finger and then pressing it onto the spot.

It stuck out like a white and blue sore thumb, but at least it concealed the yuckiness under it.

I traipsed down the stairs to see Sacha stood at the bottom, with her perfectly clear skin and her hair that co-operated with her straighteners every morning. If she wasn't my best friend, I'd gladly slap her.

"Wow, Bliss, I never knew spots had to fight plaque and decay," she smiled.

"Sacha, do me a favour and zip it."

"I love you too."

I yelled a farewell to Joanne who was wrestling with Oliver to put his socks on, and set off on the jolly walk to school with Sacha.

"This year's going to be good, I can feel it. I need an older boyfriend I decided, because the ones our age are far too immature, you know and they only want one thing." Sacha gabbed.

"One thing that you already gave away," I interjected.

She shot me a playful glare and slapped my arm lightly.

I curse her with spots and blackheads for all of eternity. As evil as that sounds she deserves it for being so damn perfect.

We approached the school gates just as the bell rang throughout the yard. People began rushing past us and someone roughly knocked into my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," he said, looking at me to make sure I was okay.

I pushed my hair out of my face to see who it was.

Josh Franceschi.

"I'm fine," I mumbled.

"You've got something," he said, tapping the tip of his nose.

I reached up to find the toothpaste had dried onto my skin. He smiled at us, before running off into school.

I could feel my face burning and Sacha was finding it difficult to hold in her giggles. I ignored her and carried on walking towards the doors.

Prince Charming? I think I just found him.