ᵇⁱᵗᵗᵉʳˢʷᵉᵉᵗ

Perfection

Her life was designing. She found a flaw in every object, every being, and perfected it. No wonder, she was such a big fan of sewing. She loved to see her perfect clothes wrapped around her body. Whether she was sewing blankets, clothes, or something as small as a glove it had to be perfect. She felt as if her hands were a gift from the god she worshipped. She had beautiful flowers too and made sure to keep them perfect. Her house was extravagant, the most beautiful house in the neighborhood she would say. She owned a lavish villa in the North East of California. It was close to a private school her daughter attended. Her daughter would come home with multiple friends every day. So she baked oatmeal raisin cookies. The cookies were perfect. Very recently she had gotten sandy curtains. She thought the curtains enhanced the beauty of the tan house. It was perfect, as usual. The roof was done every year along with furnishing the home. The carpets were to be changed ever so often. And the house would be spick and span. Everything was perfect, except her family troubles. Money wasn't an issue nor was love since she had many men that would give her money for free. She of course works a job not wanting to only rely on their money, but she does like to use it for special things such as nails and hair. As soon as her daughters friends left an argument would break out between the two women. The daughter would complain about her fake personality. The way her mother's lips curled up at the sight of her friends, the red lipstick that dressed her lips, and the fluorescent dress she wore. It made her daughter angry how much effort she would put into making herself perfect. Baking cookies when her head is crazy. She always told her daughter how she besmirched the family. She was the reason for her crumbling. She sat there with a sick and twisted face not even her daughter could anyalze.

She sat there humming as she sewed her daughters eyes and braided her hair. Her daughter was blinded by hate so she shut her eyes. Her daughter also had a filthy mouth that she sewed shut. Now her daughter was perfect, incapable of moving, and breathing. It was her perfection.