“Where did you get such great mascara?!?!”

Rene giggled as she looked at the mirror, enhancing her long eyelashes even more. I stared at her, hiding my glare behind her blond hair. I felt that perfect hair looking at me, gloating at it’s perfection while my own heap quivered with shame.

“This is amazing!” she giggled again, “It’s so smooth and perfect!”

As if you need to be more perfect…

Rene, in all her blond oblivion, didn’t notice my clouded eyes as dark thoughts fought behind them.

“So, did Jason, like, ask you out yet? He told me he was…” She looked back at me, a smile playing with her perfect lips.

“Not yet,” I answered, smiling at her in fake joy until she turned around again.

“Well, he will soon! I mean, who could resist your pretty face?”

She was being sarcastic with me! She knew I could never be as perfect as her! She knew it, and she exploited it every chance she had!

As the knife flew from behind my back, landing perfectly between her perfect ribs, I smirked.

Perfection was dead.