The Price of Perfection (editing)

Chapter 1

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I woke up with a start. No dreams: but more importantly, no nightmares. Over the past few months I had been working on perfecting another flaw. My nightmares.

They started 4 years ago when my dad left. I had felt like the world was over. I was only twelve years old and wasn't exactly the most mature person for my age. I'd always felt close to my Dad, in a way I had never felt with my Mum. His warm aloof personality contrasted her cold hearted one so much that I was surprised he hadn't left earlier.

Nevertheless, I had been hurt. So much that I didn't even cry. The bitter, warm liquid simply did not match the sorrow I had felt. That was when it all started: that was when my mission to be perfect started. So perfect that maybe my dad would realise his mistake and come back.

Although looking back now I think it might have been to prove my mum that I wasn't just the no-good nothing she thought I was. That she still thinks I am...

 ( 4 years ago)

Muffled footsteps; shadows dancing on the wall. I awoke from my sleep and had been drifting back into my slumber when I heard the sounds. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked around blinking. After a few dazed moments I heard a thud and crash. Suddenly not tired at all I jumped up and was half-way down the stairs when I heard my mum. 

"If you are leaving then at least take her"

"She is your daughter too"

" My daughter, huh? Who's idea was it to take her in? I told you from the first day that she's your burden to carry and I stand by that. She is NOT my daughter"

Her words had held so much disgust in them that they brought tears to my eyes even before I had actually registered what she had said. 'Take her in' she had said. Was I not theirs? What did they mean take her in.

I had always known my mum didn't like me much but hearing the words from her - spoken out loud - just made me hurt even more.

There was an uncomfortable silence coming from the living room and it hung heavily in the air. Just before I was going to run upstairs and cry my eyes out, I heard footsteps coming my way. Knowing I was not supposed to be there I tiptoed up the stairs as fast as I could. After hearing nothing for a few stretched out seconds I crouched in front of the banister and gripped the wood with trembling fingers.

"Just promise you'll take care of her"  he pleaded. The look in mum's eye hardened and he retreated towards the door.

The door slammed as he walked out. I faintly saw my mum whisper something but all I heard was the sound of the door slamming again and again. The sound wouldn't go away and I for some reason I knew he wasn't coming back. The finality of the door slamming and his last words were proof enough. Even to me.

I let out a strangled sob and before I knew it my head was being wrenched back by my hair. Sharp fingernails dug into my chin and my head was being forced to face upwards so I could look my mother in the eyes clearly. 

" Listen you stuttering mistake. Go die in a hole for all I care but don't you dare mention this again. Yor pathetic father knew enough to leave you and if you make the mistake of crossing me again, maybe I will too"

"w- wh- where is h- he?

"Shut up! I don't want to hear from you again. You are nothing but a mistake and if your true parents had enough sense to leave you to rot then you'll know that I won't hesitate either!" With a look of utter malice in her eyes and her mouth twisted into a sneer that would stay for years to come whenever she looked at me, she left me on the floor as she locked her bedroom door.

It was only hers now. No husband to share it with. After wiping away previous tears that strayed, I realised no new ones were coming. The tears simply didn't define the sorrow I was feeling so I didn't bother with them.

I thought back to whatever could have made my dad leave. Had I not be a good enough daughter? Surely that was it. If I could only show him that I could be as perfect as he expected me to be than he would come back, wouldn't he? My eyes hardened as I whispered "I'm going to prove I can be perfect. No matter what".

My mind jerked back to the present and I peered at my clock in the dim light.. 5:02 it read. I got up and got ready in silence. The silence didn't bother me. I was all too used to it. Knowing my mother would have a hangover from last night I didn't bother turning the light on. Our rooms were a little too close for my liking but it was better than sharing a room. Been there, done that.

That's just another thing my father left with. His income. My mother not having gotten a degree in anything was forced to work jobs at minimum pay, and that was when she bothered to get a job. My own one payed better but there were long hours. Nevertheless, I never let it affect my grades in school and still managed to work everything around it.

I mentally shook my head. I was letting my thoughts wander too much today. After picking out a black skirt, olive tank top, purposely ripped tights and ankle boots with 2 inch heels that were bordering on breaking the rules but not quite. I walked into the miniature bathroom we shared. It reeked of alcohol and urine but at least it was only us sharing it. Not like before.

I put some eyeliner on to highlight my eyes but left it at that. I didn't really need mascara because my eyelashes were naturally thick and dark. Then I got some foundation to cover my freckles. I hated them.

They dotted across my cheekbones and nose and were scattered randomly. The reason I hated them was because they made me look like her. Like my mother.

I carefully combed through my long dark hair. My hair naturally had blond highlights but I had dyed the ends so they wouldn't show. It was just another thing that reminded me that although I wasn't my mothers biological child, with my looks I might as well have been. When my hair was finally pin straight, I set to messing it up. Combing it the wrong way and making sure that both sides were evenly messy. Perfect.