Competing With Perfection

Perfection. That was the word that was constantly swimming around Eliza’s head. Perfection, perfection, perfection. And that’s what Eliza Night was: the perfect picture of perfection. She had long, layered, luscious sooty black hair that reached to the middle of her back. She had dark, think eyelashes; she had lips that were full and plump. Her eyes were alluring and dazzling and such an unusual color of green she was constantly asked if she was wearing contacts. No, she would laugh and answer, they are most definitely my eyes.
She had been so focused on being perfect, that life seemed to pass her by. She hadn’t noticed when her little sister had gotten sick, even though all the signs had been there. She hadn’t noticed that her brother was planning to leave for the army in a few weeks. She didn’t even notice her so called ‘best friends’ plotting her downfall. No, she was too busy making sure everything was perfect. Making sure she was perfect. Because she had to be perfect. Nothing less than perfect would suffice.