Perfect?Mature

Fast forward to last period. I went to math, pretty sure I bombed my test, but otherwise, I'm at the beginning of last period, English. This is the class where I don't do anything but doodle, basically, and think about the theories I have in life. For instance, every fourth person in the hall you say 'hi' to, says 'hello' back. But today, is different for some reason. Maybe I'm just completely mind fucked because I'm so overtired, or maybe I just got over my writers block. Well that's what I thought, until Ms. Jones assigned us to write a speech about something that means a lot to us, individually. I'm not quite sure what exactly to write about, it feels like I've been staring at this sheet of loose leaf for about 15 minutes. I got it! Perfection and beauty. I quickly scribble my thoughts down on paper as she calls my name. Heading towards the front of the class, I flush, and start reading; 

"This speech was supposed to be about something that means a lot to us. But I remember something I wrote in my journal a while back. It's not really a topic, but more of an issue." I pause for a breath, putting my paper down. 

"I feel like a politician. Truth is, I'm not here to impress ya'll. I'm usually the one in the back, laughing and carrying on, when you guys sweat your asses off - excuse my french - and get so worked up over presenting in front of the class." Staring into my classmate's faces, I can tell some of them aren't very happy. I look over at Ms. Jones and she looks expectant. 

"What my point is, is this; you guys are striving so hard to be perfect and pushing yourselves and pushing yourselves when the pressure makes you become addicted to being 'perfect.' Most of you girls in this classroom cake on your make-up because you want to seem beautiful. My journal entry ties into both those situations." Some peers look intrigued and some look pissed. 

"One day, somewhere, somebody is going to end up hearing this. It may be tomorrow, or a week from now, or in the distant future. But no matter what color, gender, culture, sexuality or religion that person that hears this, is, I have a little wake up call for you. You are beautiful in your own way. No matter what anybody says. At one eventual point in life, some - excuse me - bitch, will try and tell you otherwise, but don't listen to them, because their opinion does not matter. Being 'beautiful' seems to tie in with being 'perfect' to most people. I'll tell you right now, nobody is perfect, and everybody has flaws." I take a breath, and look over. Ms. Jones has a little smile on her lips. 

"Some people are too full of themselves to realize that. So they pick on other people to make themselves to feel better. They think they're king of the world. Guess what?" I hear a chorus of 'what's. 

"They aren't. They aren't perfect either. Don't waste half your life wishing you were somebody else, trying to be perfect. 'Perfect,' is unattainable. Somebody go grab a dictionary and find the definition of perfect." Nathan heads to the back of the class and gets a dictionary.

"'Perfect:'" he reads out loud, and confidently, "someone with few flaws; possessing many desirable qualities." 

"I happen to think that, that is shallow, and bullshit. You're supposed to love somebody for who they are and their personality. Not for their looks or their few mistakes. Don't waste your life on worrying about stuff like that. Don't hold yourself back, you can do whatever you want with self confidence. Live your life, be who you want to be, nothing more, and nothing less." A thunder of applause follows me as I head back to my seat. 

"Jessica, can I see you tomorrow before classes start?" Ms. Jones directs me in an unknown tone. Oh shit, I wonder how that's going to go over. 

"Um.. sure?" I reply shakily, leaning back into my seat. I look over and Alex's cold blue eyes stare back at me.

Maybe I'll actually have a shot with him this year... you never know.

The End

7 comments about this story Feed