A Collection of Odd Stories (Aim To Engage Contest - Prompts 3-30)

Perfect Isn't Real (Romance)

The portrait of a beautiful woman stares at me. Her hair falls down from her head to her shoulders, flowing like a black waterfall. A sharp nose rests slightly below a set of large, amber eyes. Her petite mouth is a rich color of red, with one end of it curling up in a small smile.

I let out a heartfelt sigh, running a hand through my brown hair. She's perfect.

A loud thunder outside makes me jerk, interrupting my thoughts. I look out the window at the darkening sky, where black, raging clouds are starting to cover the stars. It's going to rain soon.

I look back at the portrait and decide on the name.

"Zoe." I look up at the picture of my parents up on the wall, "Do you guys like that?"

No response. Obviously. They were shot by a robber right in front of me when I was 12. I couldn't do anything about it except live the rest of my teen years in an orphanage.

Now at 21 years old, I work at a lousy corporate job with low pay.

The world's a dark place.

My phone rings, startling me again. Why can't there just be some peace and quiet?

"Hello." I greet my boss gruffly.

"Why haven't you submitted your report yet?" The scratchy voice of my manager comes from the other side, "It was due an hour ago."

"I'll have it done by-"

"I don't care, Daimon," he interrupts, "Expect a sum of money to be taken out of your paycheck this month."

"No-" I start to protest, but he hangs up. I slam my phone against the couch. "Why'd you even ask why I haven't turned it in then?"

Everyone in this world only worries about themselves. Why can't people just be nice to each other?

"Why can't they be like you, Zoe?" I ask, setting my hand on the canvas and leaning towards her.

A faint blush appears on her cheeks.

I jump back, knocking over the paint I set to the side. Colors spill everywhere on the carpet.

"Oh my." The painting talks. Talks.

The woman climbs out, revealing a flowy brown skirt that fits perfectly with her fair complexion and black hair.

"You're... real." I reach out and cup my hand around her face, looking into her amber irises.

"Yes." Her black paint outline starts to disappear, leaving only Zoe.

"How?" I inquire in awe, taking two strands of her hair in my hand and rubbing them together. Soft and silky.

"You willed me to come alive." Zoe reaches up and rests her fingers on my wrist. Her skin's warm with life. "So I did."

"Who are you?"

"Your vision of the ideal human." Her slender fingers slide down to my forearm as she gently takes my hand off her face. "I'm your dream."

I stay silent as she takes a look around my messy apartment. "You've got some cleaning to do."

"I don't mind the clutter." I reply, "My life's lousy anyway."

Zoe looks into my eyes and pushes the hair out of my face, "Doesn't mean you can't try and improve it."

I sigh blissfully and let the weight of my head fall against the palm of her hand, resting my forehead on it. "You're perfect. Better than all the other people in this god forsaken world."

"Everyone has their flaws." Zoe replies softly, "No one's perfect."

"All I see in them is flaws." I let my head fall on her shoulder as she wraps her arms around me, hugging me close. I could feel her breathing against me, her lungs expanding and contracting, her chest rising and falling.

I could feel her better than I could feel myself. I wanted her to stay. To be by my side forever.

A tear rolls down my cheek. "I've been so lonely, Zoe. There's no one in this world that cares whether I live or die."

"You'll find someone in time." Zoe continues cradling me. Her angelic voice soothes my brain. Relieves me of all my stress.

I feel as though I'm floating.

"I've already found you." I smile wanly, "I'm not alone anymore."

"Promise me that you'll work to improve your life. And connect with other people." Zoe gently wipes the tears out of my face with her soft hand. "The world may be dark, but there are some very bright pockets in it. Start looking for them."

She cups her hand around my cheek. I look at her with dreamy eyes.

"Whatever you say. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Just stay." I whisper quietly.

"Promise."

"I promise." I rest my hand on hers, squeezing it slightly, "I'll work to make connections with other people. I'll turn my life around. I'll look for the light."

She slowly withdraws her hand from my cheek. "Good."

I reach out to grab her hand, but she pulls back. "What happened? Where are you going? Stay!" I start to panic. I was addicted to her touch.

"I need to go, Daimon." Hearing her say my name sets my heart in peace.

I start crying once again. "No... don't!" I plead, "Why do you have to go? You're perfect for me!"

She stands on the tips of her toes and presses her lips onto mine. I let out a long sigh, melting into her. A warm feeling spreads through my body, enveloping me. I want to be in this moment my entire life.

Zoe pulls back and whispers into my ear, "Perfect isn't real, Daimon." She steps back towards the door and twists the knob.

"No... it's raining outside..." I watch as she steps out into the splattering rain, her long, black hair billowing to the side as a gust of wind hits her.

She looks like an angel from behind.

She's perfect. Perfect isn't real.

I watch her melt away into paint.

A faint whisper floats to my ears, barely audible in the rain.

"Don't forget our promise."