"They must be perfect,"

Said Signora Fedele, her voice was stern as she watched her only daughter scrub diligently at the porcelain plates. "Absolutely spotless." Her seven year old daughter with two long, tight, perfect pigtails only looked at her mother in curiosity. In her chestnut eyes, the plates looked fine. She bit her lower lip to stay quiet, not daring to speak back to her mother. She scrubbed the dishes until her hands were wrinkled and pink from the hot dish water, only to receive a long lecture afterwards about "not following directions."

"It must be perfect,"

Mother told the old tailor, Signora Conti, one evening. Her now eleven year old daughter watched patiently, watching her mother's obsidian eyes stare down the older woman as she requested her order. It was an extravagant dress with many bows and frills, but the girl couldn't help but wince at the color choice her mother picked. She could tell from the old woman's face that she too was displeased with the selection. Many times she tried to speak up and politely suggest a different color or placing a bow someplace else, but was shot down every time. Yellows and greens never worked well with her completion, they made her look sickly and pale. When it was time to pick up the dress, the girl could only sit and watch as her mother yell at the poor woman for making the dress "wrong." Guilt swarmed her stomach like angry hornets knowing she could've said something to save the woman from her mother's wrath.

"Everything must be perfect."

Mother explained as she watched her fourteen year old daughter with calculating eyes. She set down the white plate and placed the silver wear on the side, all the time aware of the fierce glare thrown in her direction. She knew her mother wasn't referring to the table, but rather about her instead. Tonight was a very important dinner with important people coming, namely a possible suitor for the young girl. Her mother had been nervously waiting this night for weeks, by the time it was almost dinner she was practically ready to pull her own dark hair out. She triple checked everything and nearly had a heart attack when someone knocked on the door, but her daughter was there in an instant with a cheery smile stretched across her face. She curtsied gracefully to her visitors and was pleased to find the dinner had started out well.

Unfortunately, it did not end that way. Half way through the dinner, the daughter had stood up in a rage and had politely told the man to "be mindful of other's feelings," and stormed out of the room. In shock and anger the man stood up and left the house quickly, cursing under his breath that "it would take a miracle to marry that spoiled brat off." She was pleased to be away from such an inconsiderate man, while her mother was not. Her mother dealt with the news the only way she knew how and refrained from speaking to her daughter for a week's time. Though ignored and practically alone, she was not upset for her mother could've reacted so much worse.

"She must be perfect,"

Her mother told her father one night, her voice cracked on the verge of tears. The daughter wasn't supposed to hear this, but accidentally overheard it on her midnight trip to the kitchen. She had been so surprised, she stopped dead in the tracks and watched as her parents spoke through a crack in their bedroom door. What surprised her most was the nod of confirmation from her father, his hand subconsciously played with his beard as he sat deep in thought. Never before had she seen him agree to the idealization her mother had of perfection, especially not when direction towards herself. She felt ashamed and continued on to the kitchen, tears threatening to spill as she felt as though she were disappointing her parents.

After many weeks of reflecting on what her parents had said, the girl with big brown eyes had finally come to a conclusion. If her parents wanted her to be perfect, then they had better learn to accept her for who she currently was. She was perfect, with her imperfections and her flaws; at least that's what she believed. She no longer would change who she was to please others because she had news for them,

Perfect was an impossible task.

~"-"~

Oh, hello there. :D