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Metamorphosis (standard:drama, 1221 words)
Author: Sara BaughAdded: May 02 2001Views/Reads: 1889/1199Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The ugly duckling on acid! A modern spin that will leave you uneasy...

The unattractive young woman. 

Once, well not too long ago actually, a hideously ugly duckling of a
girl was born to glamorous parents in the comfort of their Notting Hill 
flat. She had a dreadfully misshapen figure, an incessantly irritated, 
bloated face and a big pulsating spotty nose that was too big for her 
face. Proportionally absurd, She had little pits for eyes and her big 
black eyebrows grew together in the middle of her forehead. Compared to 
her mother, the nineteen-year-old face of Gucci, and her father, a 
forty-five year old chiseled, Italian photographer, this chick really 
was ugly. 

Unsurprisingly as soon as she was old enough this unsightly little girl
was sent away to boarding school- away from the sickened observant 
stares of her repulsed parents who hoped that no one knew who she 
belonged too. 

Of course, none of the beautiful little girls, in their Vivienne
Westward uniforms and Prada shoes, could relate to this, this 
un-manicured, cellulite suffering being. They gave her half-hearted 
nods of acknowledgements where appropriate but usually just mocked any 
attempts she made to fit in. This of course made our hideous little 
girl very upset and sometimes she would sit in her solitary bedroom and 
cry to herself for hours on end. In the process however, she studied 
hard and became very intelligent and well read. This did her no favors 
as she just alienated herself even more from the somewhat materialistic 
idiocy of her peers. 

When our ugly friend finally hit puberty, she began to grow, but not
upwards, gracefully, like the other girls, she grew increasingly 
across. She also began to grow angry and bitter. Their jeering remarks 
flew around her head at night and meant she couldn’t sleep. "That ugly 
kid has got a real attitude problem"; and why not. She didn't have much 
to smile about, she just got uglier almost by the day, and any attempts 
to bleach her hair or wax her legs just worsened her dire situation. 
One day she looked in the mirror and was horrified at what looked back. 
‘She’ could only be described as a twenty stone Alice Cooper on acid. 
Our ugly teen had finally had enough. 

She ran away from school and headed for east-London in search of others
more like her, or at least a friend. However, when she got there she 
didn't get along too well with all the other ugly people she met, 
repulsed by their oh-so-80s wet perms and bargain basement leggings, 
and not an ounce of intelligence between them. Perhaps not 
surprisingly, because of the major ‘tude her past had left her with 
they didn’t think much of her either. She still watched as the 
beautiful people (and even some of the ugly ones) in her world smiled 
and laughed and fell in love with each other, they prospered and 
overcame their barriers with the bat of a lash. She became depressed 
more and more each day. 

The next ten years were of pain and grief for a struggling young ugly,
ugly girl. She hated the dead end job she managed to get at Macdonalds, 
she hated selling fries to bent necked football players and wannabe 
models that barely managed one bite of their big-Mac before heading 
nauseous and guilty for the toilets. Her life began moving slower and 
slower, and her brain, her hormones were playing tricks on her, and she 
had dreams of the beautiful girls that were so distant. She twitched 
awkwardly and longed to escape. 

Eventually she got sacked for thinking she was ‘above the job’ and
reading the guardian when she was meant to be on duty. Her boss told 
her she didn’t quite ‘pull-off’ the “Intelligent student look”. 

She found herself with nothing to do to pass the days. She rarely went
to the cinema; she couldn’t understand the parallel reality that the 
screen portrayed, the beautiful people, overcoming their problems, 
falling in love, being happy. But she did like watching things blow up, 
she liked a good car chase and a battle, where it didn't matter who was 
the beautiful one, who was the thin one, or how many fries it took to 
fill you up. 

She knew what the ugly, ugly girls could do. So ugly was she, in looks
and in mind, she knew how to get what those pretty girls had. One day 
she purchased a 1964 El Camino and a Mac-10 automatic pistol. 

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