Perfection

I angrily stomp up the stairs, bursting into my room and slamming the door shut. I mutter nonsense as I imagine talking to my mom, chewing her out for everything that she has done.

“I’m not perfect," I growl to my pillow. With an angry kick, I send it flying against the wall, “yet you can’t seem to get that through your head. You say you can see the smallest of dirt particles, but you can’t seem to see all the stress you’re putting on me.” I laugh bitterly as I sit on my bed. “You know, I thought mother’s were supposed to support their daughters, not tear them down every freaking time they get a measly B on their report card. Be lucky I’m not like those other kids who get F’s and D’s and stuff like that. You expect so much from me; the most luscious and curly hair, the most smooth skin, acne free, the best grades in this whole damn school. Well, news flash mother! I’m only fifteen. I’m a growing teen who is probably going to have acne, and overly oily hair. I can only do so much at once. As for the grade thing," I laugh quietly as I lay on my back and talk to the ceiling fan, “no one, especially me, gives a flying hoot about how you skipped two grades and were able to be in high school early. Congratulations,” sarcasm spilled out of my mouth and I was shocked at myself. I’ve never been this angry about something in my life, “I would be happier for you if you didn’t mention it every single freaking time I got a B on my report card. Instead of being happy that I’m getting better grades than half the school combined, instead of giving me a hug and a I’m so proud of you moment, you just call it a lazy A and shake your head all disappointed, like I just killed your pet puppy or something. Well guess what? You can be disappointed all you want. That won’t change the fact that I am me. I am not you and you aren’t going to turn me into you. Not everyone is perfect, Mom, and it’s time you used your so-called ‘big brain’ to figure that out.”

Finally free of anger, I lay there, on my back, until the sunlight outside changes to night. There was no way I was actually going to tell her all this, but at least I got it out of me.