Perfectly Imperfect - An original story
I walk out into the shocking cold air, my hands tucked firmly in my pockets. My mind is a blurry mess of fuzzy images and fried thoughts. I know I need to clear my head, so I gaze up into the true black sky. It’s a thing of beauty tonight, a dark blanket of night stitched with sequined stars. And there, lying within the illuminated freckles, I find him. Maybe he is God, maybe he is just another constellation etched into the night sky. But suddenly, I know just what to do.
Dropping to the ground, I whisper to him. I tell him about my day, and about how lonely I am. I tell him how I don’t seem to fit in at school, and how no guy will ever like me. I explain in detail about my math teacher’s blatant dislike for me, and I go on about my backstabbing best friend. I cry over my parent’s divorce and beg for advice on my troubled brother. But most of all, I pray for things to work out in the end. I plead that it will get better, and that I won’t be alone for long. I wish with all my heart for sunny days and blue skies, for endless happiness and eternal peace.
When I’m done talking to him, I sprawl out across the grass and wonder who I’m even talking to. In a split second, I know it doesn’t matter. All that I care about is that, whoever he is, he’s listening. And that is something I’ve never had before. Closing my eyes, I imagine what would happen if all my dreams came true. I would be the most popular girl in my whole school, with various friends and boys drifting in my wake. I would have tons of cute clothes, a perfect family, and a Beverly Hills-style mansion to reside in. I would have fantastic grades, and probably end up in my dream school.
But I would be selfish, thinking only of myself and how amazingly lucky I am. I would cast off friends like contestants on a game show and never look back. I would be hated by girls who were lower in status then I, and with good reason. I wouldn’t be very nice, and I would never stop to think about how others feel or how mean I am to them. And that just isn’t me.
My eyes snap open frantically, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize that none of that is true. Honestly, I’m not very popular. I don’t wear designer clothes or possess a supermodel face. My grades are average to teachers, and horrible to my parents. My family is scattered at best, and torturous at worst. I am nothing like that girl I’d thought I wanted to be. I am kind, and I put others first. I don’t throw away friends like they’re clothes that I’ve grown out of, and even though I’ve never had a boyfriend, I don’t mind because I know that a guy will come along who likes me for me. I’m dedicated and focused, and my heart is pure.
Would I give all that up just for a social reputation? And just like that, I have my answer.
Tilting my head back and studying the sky, I whisper, “Never mind.” Wrapping my jacket tighter around my body, I hurry back home. Just as I’m pushing open my back door, I hear a soft voice floating through my ears and surrounding me like the most beautiful kind of music, saying, “You are never alone.” A grin splits my face as I run inside to greet my dysfunctional family. Gazing around my small house, with my vacant parents and angry brother, all I can see is perfect. Perfectly imperfect, just like it should be.
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