Sorry this is so short! The next chapter is longer. The main purpose of this is to be an introduction...read on! :)
They all say nobody is perfect. I agree, because everyone has their own definition of perfect. However, if the things you do, the talents you have are considered perfect to the majority of people, then why not do it? What is the point of anything that doesn’t strive for perfection? If you are terrible at one thing, you should be perfect at something to make up for it. This is a pretty evil way of thinking, because once you think about it too much, then you’re completely consumed in the denial that might otherwise be known as your life. It takes the better person to accept imperfection. I guess I’m just not the better person.
Now this is perfection, I think to myself while raising about my three-hundredth square of chocolate to my lips during my favorite scene of The Sound of Music, the boat scene and the conversations that follow. Well, to be precise, it’s my twelfth piece, not three-hundredth. Only thirteen more until the box is empty. From this description of how my day has gone so far, it might seem as though I had just broke up with a boyfriend and am eating chocolates I have bought myself and watching a sappy movie. The only thing true about that is that I am watching a sappy movie. The chocolates belong to my sister, who is allergic to the milk in the chocolates, a boy has never looked at me with any other expression than disgust, and I hate spending money.
Minus the fact that I’m getting fatter with each bite that I take, I am in complete contentment. My sheets have been washed last night, so I woke up to a clean-smelling bed. I remembered that it was summer vacation, so I of course popped in my favorite movie. And honestly, who watches their favorite movie without eating?
All mornings should be like this. No immediate stress and no talking to people. Those two things kind of very strongly link to one another in my case. I can’t stand talking to creatures that probably judge me even more harshly than I judge myself, which is saying quite a bit.
To my great annoyance, the sun has started shining through the gaps between the blinds onto the screen. Determined to be as lazy as possible, I set my chocolates at the foot of the bed and contort and extend my body into the most uncomfortable position in unrecorded history and my hand reaches to adjust my blinds, while still paying attention to the movie.
BAM! Out of nowhere there is a crashing noise (which turned out to be the door slamming open against the wall), our dog Mocha barking, a loud shout from both my sister and cousin, causing me to be startled to the point where I scream and completely fall out of my bed. I note that the blinds aren’t even all the way fixed.
“What is your problem?” I shout at the still-laughing juvenile, pathetic excuses for human beings, while helping myself up, and pushing Mocha away from me. Dear god, I hate animals.
My explosion just prompts more giggling from them, and more barking from especially when I complete my task of fixing the blinds and pause the movie. “Aw calm down Mia, we’re only having a little fun,” laughs my sister Paige, punching me in the arm. She is literally over forty pounds lighter than me, but it still hurt.
“Ow! Scaring me and interrupting my movie wasn’t enough? Now you have to hit me too?”
“Ooh, must be that time of the month,” says my cousin Molly wide-eyed, holding back a giggle.
I frown, less than amused. “Yeah, for you,” I reply acidly, looking pointedly between her legs, waiting for her reaction.
“What?! Is it showing?!” She looks down there too, to find nothing. “That’s not fair,” she wails. “Why do you have to be such a bitch?” She and Paige both glare at me.
“It is commonly referred to as karma. Now get out.” Seeing as all three of us are thoroughly annoyed, they comply, with only a few words to me.
There are many sad things about this situation. One) for something like this to happen was not unusual, two) Paige is thirteen and Molly is fourteen, three) I’m turning nineteen this year, four) I should be used to this by now, but I still get scared, and five) I’m the only one in this house who has a problem with this happening.
I mean, my aunt tells them not to do it, that “people like me” shouldn’t be messed with, but it’s too difficult for her to hide the fact that she is counting minutes for me to leave for college. Congratulations, Aunt Kay, your annoying niece will be at the opposite end of the country, so no one can threaten the normality of this family.
I was officially diagnosed with OCD and clinical depression when I was like, ten. I’ve been seeing a therapist since then, every week. If routine dies, I die with it. If things are not to the point where people think that they’re perfect, it upsets me. I look at it like this: I am the exact opposite of perfect, so to make up for it, everything else has to at least come close.
It’s understandable that everyone who knows me hates me at least a little bit, especially with Aunt Kay. I mean, she didn’t exactly ask for Paige and I. Well mainly, me. She thinks Paige is something of a gift from God, even though she has to take her to the allergist all the time and be careful what Paige eats, Paige is still one of the sweetest creatures that could ever walk the earth, from her perspective. Me on the other hand, I’m highly difficult to get along with, and avoid people as much as possible.
However, to compensate for my abysmal personality, Aunt Kay never has to worry about cleaning the house, due to my intense germ phobia.
I squirt hand sanitizer on my hands before returning to my chocolate, and rewinding the Sound of Music to the part where I left off, thinking how hard life is when you’re constantly being judged. Everyone judges everyone, but I feel like I bear the brunt of that judgment, because I have both terrible looks and a terrible personality. In fact the only one who doesn’t judge me is—
“Imagine all the people…living for todaaaaay…!” My thoughts are interrupted by my ringtone, knowing that there’s only one person that could possibly be calling.
“Blake?” I can’t keep the smile off my face as I talk to my best friend in the entire world. Well, that is a somewhat less pathetic way of saying that he’s my only friend in the entire world, but it doesn’t matter.
“Mamma Mia, here I go a again! Mamma Mia, how can I resist ya?” Blake sings back at me, while I laugh.
When we were talking one time, Blake and I both agreed that if we were movies, I would be a scientific documentary and he would be the greatest musical film of all time. Like, a combination of all the classics put together with a few modern-day ones. Honestly, those assertions are pretty accurate, because I am a walking encyclopedia of science and he is a walking Broadway musical, and he can get along with anything with a pulse.
Because of these key traits about us, I would be going to Harvard on a physics scholarship and he would be going to Julliard as a theatre major. We were unhappy about the distance, but were pretty happy the way it worked out, since we’d both got into the some of best schools in the country. The one difference is that Blake is naturally talented, but I’m not naturally smart; I just have no life.
“So what do you want?” I inquire.
“Morning to you too!”
“Hey, it’s barely nine! I think I’m entitled to ask that question. Especially since your normal waking up time is like, noon.” It’s true. There were so many instances in high school where Blake would oversleep and nonchalantly show up with his smiling face. It happened ridiculously often; it was worrying if he showed up on time for an entire week.
“Mom woke me up. She wanted me to say bye to Charlotte since she’s leaving home for the first time for dance camp.”
I can imagine his facial reaction. “Don’t roll your eyes! Charlotte is so sweet. She just might be the kid to prove my ‘all kids are assholes’ theory wrong.” Blake had no idea how lucky he was to be blessed with such a cute, caring little sister. I would give anything if we could just trade sisters.
Blake laughs. “Your sister isn’t too bad herself.” See? He just has an incredible way with people. “Just a little immature, that’s all.”
“Oh please. That is not all. Going back to the original question, what do you want?”
“Would coming over be too great of a request?”
“I’ll let you in this time.”
“Great, see you in ten!”
I hang up, clean my phone with a Wet One wipe, throw the wipe away, and return to the chocolates and the movie, willing it to come to a good stopping point before Blake came, but knowing as well as anyone who has common sense that there is no such thing as a good stopping point in the Sound of Music before the ending, which was pushing limits. Oh, my love for the Sound of Music could move mountains.
And this, folks, is why I only have one friend.
Thanks for reading! :D