All my life i've tried to be 'perfect'.
Even from a young age I took all the extra curricula activities I could to boost my grade. You see I was the youngest in my family, With both an older brother and sister I had to live up to expectations. My sister Angelina was one of the best surgeons in America, She graduated from Harvard University with the best grades and went straight into her career. My brother Tyson was a lawyer, also one of the best in America that graduated a year early from Harvard University.
Then there was me, Isabella Monroe, the youngest and dumbest.
It was a lot of pressure, for the last 17 years i've tried to do my best. To be perfect.
Perfect was a big part in my life. It was the word I lived by. The word I strived to be.
Everything in my life was perfect, My parents loved each other to extreme extents, they had the kind of love I wished to have.
They loved me, they told me so everyday when I would show them my report cards.
All I wanted from my parents was to be told that they were proud.
Not because of some report card but because I was doing my best.
My friends were all geniuses, you could call them smart asses, but they were genuine and helped me out a lot.
And my boyfriend, Callum he was a dream. Always there for me with everything and anything.
Everything was perfect.
But what changed?
