Chapter 3

Paris's eyes opened slowly, and she found herself lying in her bed.

"You're finally awakened," she heard her mother's voice.

Her eyes searched the room and there she saw her mother sitting by the window.

"It was not a dream," Paris said worried, realizing what had happened today was true.

"Tomorrow, I'll be following you to get some new dresses to look beautiful for your soon-to-be husband and also a stylish hairstyle," her mother told her as she got up from the chair, leaving the room.

"Mom," Paris jumped out of bed stopping her.

"Who says once he looks at me, he'll want me to be his wife?" Paris asked worriedly.

High school days Paris had been ignored and scorned many times by boys because of her hair and worst her face too, which was filled with freckles. Paris believed her face wasn't beautiful as well, she believed her face looked like a piece of stained white cloth.

"He'll love you when I help you beautifully dress and showing a little skin, said Mrs. Rose. So, stop being so insecure."

Paris's attention turned to the window knowing that there is nothing in this world that can make her beautiful and attractive to a man other than a new hair and new face which is quite impossible to happen.

"Your dinner will be brought to your room," her mother told her as she left the room.

Paris squeezed her bed sheet worried about tomorrow. Fretting about being turned down or rejected by him because of her unattractive face. She slowly went over to her mirror. She began to loosen her red hair from its ponytail, staring at her reflection. Paris had never let her hair loose when leaving the house. It was always made into a ponytail and sometimes hidden by a large hat.

"Why didn't I have either one of my parents' hair or be as beautiful as Everlee," said Paris sadly with tears in her eyes, remaining to stare at her image she wished would just somehow magically change.

Paris began to recall her days and Everlee at school. Everlee was the one who gained all the attention and had a lot of friends because she was beautiful, unlike her. She was the one always alone, all because of her red hair and freckled face.

Her finger slowly touched the freckles on her face, and her head turned from the mirror disgusted by her image. Deep down Paris knew for sure that the man she was arranged to get married to will never want her as his wife once he sees her face tomorrow and worst her hair. She walked over to her bed and drop face down.

" I wish my face was as beautiful as my curvy body," Paris cried.

That was one physical feature she liked about herself. She thought her body to be very voluptuous but believed it didn't match her ugly face.

"I'm indeed a butterhead as every boy would have called me at school. Sexy body and an ugly face," she cried her eyes out.