Chapter Seventeen: Confused

Emily

If someone told me that I would be swept off my feet by a smoking hot man and that I would look like Cinderella someday, I would have laughed in their face before screaming at the top of my lungs and calling them a lying bastard or bitch before asking them why they would lie to me like that. I would then run home and cry because that was who the old Emily was. Insecure and ugly, as the snobby brats at school would say.