Sunday 05 September

“…And, lastly,” the girl’s voice lowered to a thoughtful murmur, as she considered what to ask for- but there was really only one thing; one thing she’d been wanting to say but couldn’t get the words out. “My final wish… is to be beautiful.”

The genie gave her a shrug and vanished into thin air. It didn’t shrink back into an oil lamp, or leave behind a puff of smoke or anything, like everyone seems to think genies do; it just disappeared. How Alice acquired the genie is unimportant and irrelevant to this story, as are her other two wishes. All we need to know is that they were granted without hesitation, and exactly as she’d imagined, so she had no doubt that this final wish would make her stunning, gorgeous and irresistible. A huge grin beamed across her usually shy face as she rushed to the mirror, knowing that she might finally be noticed if she wasn’t so ordinary and boring in her looks. That smile, however, immediately shattered upon the tiled floor of the bathroom, popping her bubble of fantasies. Staring back at her was that same devastatingly plain, even ugly face, which she had to endure day after day, for the rest of her life. She could have worn makeup, but it just didn’t seem like the sort of thing she’d do, or the sort of person she wanted to be. And so she would forever stay unchanging: her hair the same bland mousey-brown; her eyes a drab grey-glue; those freckles like camouflage to her button nose.

“Stupid genie,” she muttered, gently kicking the wall in frustration. Today had been the last day of the summer holidays; the last day to do something with her life… But now school was going to start back up, and she’d be stuck again, in that loop which we call routine: Turn up every day, do the work, and try not to be noticed. It was easy to be ignored; it wasn’t like she stood out in any way. At home it wasn’t any different: her sister had gone to university, and her parents were always too busy working to have time for Alice.

Monday 06 September

I dread today. Putting on my dreary grey uniform, I morph into a lost conformist, impossible to pick out among the crowds. Your attention is drawn to the charismatic girls with perfect hair and flawless features – you cannot help it. That doesn’t make you shallow or uncaring; it just makes you human.