Something Perfect [COMPLETED]

Chapter 1 - I've Always Wondered What it Felt Like To Be Normal.

I’ve always wondered what it felt like to be normal.

There are certain people in the world which I look at and I wonder, how can their life be so perfect?

Some people can be so free and happy living their life. They seem to have no problems at all. All they care about is the new game coming out, or the new pair of shoes that are on sale, or even what some other perfect family may be up to, such as a celebrity lifestyle that’s been slapped on the front of a magazine for all those nosy gossips which have nothing better to do with their life.

How could someone have so little to do that they have the time to sit there and wonder about someone else’s perfect life rather than worrying about their own?

                The easy answer is because they don’t want to think about their own life. They’d rather waste their time concentrating on someone else’s and comparing it to their own just to make them feel worse about themselves. It’s always ‘why does she have that and I don’t?’ or ‘why can’t I have that?’ They’d rather complain about not having the newest gear because they don’t really have anything else to complain about.

                To be fair, I was complaining right now about the one thing which I was doing myself.

The only difference was that my life wasn’t perfect. My life wasn’t always happy and smiling. Actually, it’s usually quite daunting. I’m not normal but I pretended to be, mostly for the fact that my mother had told me to pretend ever since I was little and I had learnt to talk.

                There I was, sitting there at the back of the class with my headphones in and my jacket hitched as close to my neck as it could be, contemplating hypocritically about the judgemental people in front of me, knowing full well that I was doing the exact same thing.

The only difference was that I knew parts of their life which they didn’t know I knew.

For instance, I glanced to the left of me where a skinny girl with flowing long blonde hair sat picking her nail varnish off as she waited for class to start. Jessica was one of the luckiest girls I knew, yet she constantly complained about the new dress she didn’t have or the new boots Mila Kunis was wearing on the awards evening which she also, funnily enough, didn’t have.

She didn’t know that I knew her father was about to lose his job and had pushed her mother into the kitchen wall out of anger and lack of control, causing a slight bruise which I happened to bump into one afternoon with my arm when I was walking towards the car park in the school grounds.

She also didn’t know that I knew she’d spilt her nail varnish over the hood of her fluffy winter coat which she’d worn yesterday because her friend Rachael had come in her bedroom and made her jump. I had had the pleasure of picking her coat up from the floor one time to prevent myself falling over it as it was in the middle of the isle, the fur brushing against the rim of my gloves.

Another main example was Brett. He was the typical high school American wannabe jock who was built like a brick and wore baseball jackets at every given opportunity. He didn’t know I knew that he’d broken up with his girlfriend a few minutes ago and she’d thrown water at him, missing his head by inches, but catching droplets on the front of his shirt, which was completely dry by now. I had to squeeze past him beforehand to get to my seat and my arm had skimmed the side of his shirt.

He also didn’t know that I knew that he had had a fight with his dog this morning, causing a slight rip on the top of his jeans which I had to unhook my bag from when I embarrassingly got caught on the way to my seat, brushing against him with the edge of my hip.