Author's Note: This is for all of us who are afraid of perfection and how much it can ruin us. Cheers.
Disclaimer: My only claim to Flight 29 Down is that it is my primary fandom. That's about it, folks.
P e r f e c t i o n. She's always hated that word since her mother died. No, before that. To tell the truth, she can't really tell when her life stopped being a fairytale and became the hellish nightmare she dwells in now. It's almost ironic that she hates- but she really dreads- p.e.r.f.e.c.t.i.o.n so much when she always strives for it.
It isn't because of her mother's death.
It isn't because of her new mother and brother.
It isn't because she's surrounded by happy families and can't share in the same joy.
It isn't because she still hasn't managed to forget the image of her mother lying lifeless in a coffin.
Heck, it isn't even because she's stuck on a deserted island far away from home with no one to guide her.
It's because her father always chose to order pizza instead of eating the dinners she cooked so painstakingly for him.
It's because her family is split. She is split.
It's because her teachers always gave her that same sad little smile whenever they saw her.
It's because Nathan McHugh chose Taylor Hagan- perfect, flawlessly beautiful Taylor Hagan- first.
It's because with every win she scores, she dies a little more inside. Every win only intensifies her despair and wistful longing for that which she hates. Every win only makes her more aware that she is in no way perfect. But still she can't stop. And that isn't proof that she really is perfect but a subtle indicator of her desperate, despairing, crushing, longing need to know that she is enough. And because of this, she is never satisfied with her successes. They only empty her, feeding instead her frenzied war against herself. She strives mercilessly to reach that hateful state of p.e.r.f.e.c.t.i.o.n, and now she finds herself on an island far from home but still too close to p e r f e c t i o n.
And now she's failed again, and her brother is turning to the epitome of perfection otherwise known as Taylor. That failure sparks a series of more failures, leaving her in such a shock that she can only watch in growing horror as she is stripped of any pride and dignity she has left as well as the things she pretends not to care about, and finally- finally!- she just can't take it anymore.
She tries her best to remain levelheaded as she snips off her hair. Her fingers tremble while she restrains herself from violently ripping her hair out by the roots, sending cruel waves of agony throughout her being. She can't help it. When she's done, she's as calm as ever. There's no real outward damage; just a few inches of hair. But she knows better. She knows that with every snippet of hair she's ruined, she's cut a little more of herself away. Then again, she'd started disappearing a long time ago.
She knows that she's all but gone now, with nothing more but a tiny wisp clinging to her last fragile thread of hope: that someone will save her- them- from the hell she's created for herself.
Because the more she tried to be p e r f e c t...
... the more she destroyed herself.
Author's Note: I have no idea where this came from. If you liked it- even a little- review. If you absolutely hated it- or mildly disliked it, I'm not picky- review. Please? I'm wondering whether to keep it as a oneshot or add more with Taylor's, Melissa's, and others' view. Review and let me know what you think. Here's to another year. I hope it's filled with a perfect kind of imperfect for you- of laughs and tears and dreams and regrets... Well, I hope it's beautiful in every way.