There is only one human being known to be born with a rare case of perfection, and that is Melissa McKee. Melissa was diagnosed the day she was born, the 27th of October in the year 2000, a millennium baby. Typical.
The doctors have never been sure of the cause of her - you could say - problem, but since the diagnosis they knew that it would never be as good as it seemed. Leaving the house consisted of peering, gazing, glaring and staring. Cameras flashing so bright an epilepsy warning sign has to be held around her. Constant interviewers, journalists, reporters, paparazzi everywhere in sight. The only safe place was the roof which has been over her head forever. Her bedroom. Melissa slowly swaggered into her room, feeling the luxuriously soft lavender carpet in between her toes. Immediately falling onto her ever-so-comfy king sized bed, covering herself with a crimson red tartan duvet cover, matching pillows and curtains too. The chandelier hanging from the very middle of her ceiling swings very subtly from side to side whilst the light bulb inside flickers. On each wall of her room is a painted vanilla wooden shelf, each holding exactly 10 wii games. A massive 56" television is attached to her wall, currently playing the sound of the wii home screen as it supposedly makes her feel calm and relaxed, according to the media of course. Melissa attempts to smooth out the slightly bumpy rose wall paper with the tip off her fingers, only to fail and receive a paper cut on her right pinkie, leaving a stain on the absolutely perfect wall paper, "Shit." she utters.
