Disclaimer: I do not own Simple Plan or their awesome song Perfect. Toooo bad.

Perfect A Short Story

I stared blankly at the girl reflected in the mirror. This can't be me. This girl's hair was bleached a pale blonde. She loved school and boy bands and pink frilly clothes. She let her parents decorate her room with stupid dolls and posters for annoying groups like Nsync and The Backstreet boys. That person that stared back at me so bleakly in the mirror was a girly pushover.

Hey dad look at me, Think back and talk to me, Did I grow up according to plan?

I glared at the girl distastefully. I hate you. How phony can you get? She was so unreal, so horrifically plastic looking, like the Barbie dolls that lined her shelves. She was, in appearance, any mother's dream come true, but only in public. I looked down at myself and shuddered, quickly walking over to the closet where I pulled out my clothes. The clothes that I like; that I wear when no ones looking- clothes that I'm supposed to hate.

And do you think I'm wasting my time, Doing things I wanna do?But it hurts when you disapprove all along

The real me dresses in oversized dark jeans and black hoodies. I wear only dark mascara and eyeliner. I dress like a freak in my parent's eyes. No matter how hard I try to make myself the wonderful daughter that they would be proud of, there's always something wrong with me. I wear what they like to school, where I ace every test thrown my way, but it's never enough, and I hate it. I'm never good enough for them.

And now I try hard to make it, I just wanna to make you proud, I'm never gonna be good enough for you, I can't pretend that I'm alright, And you can't change me

As soon as I get home from school, its just one fight after the next with them. I had always thought that maybe if I tried hard enough to be who they wanted me to be, they would finally accept me for me, not their fake daughter. It didn't take long for me to figure out that they don't care about the real me, they just want their Barbie Doll. Why can't they understand that I try hard, but I'm sorry, I can't be perfect, and maybe I just don't want to be.

Cuz we lost it all, Nothing lasts forever, I'm sorry I can't be perfect, Now it's just too late, And we can't go back, I'm sorry I can't be perfect

I walked into the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and started scrubbing off my face full make up- the face of that other girl. I scrubbed harder and harder, washing away the alias that I had worn for my parents sake, not my own. I grabbed my make up remover from the counter and splashed it on my hands only to begin scrubbing more furiously, my eyes squeezed shut, suppressing tears. One of my fingernails scraped too hard against my cheek and created a long gash down my jaw line, and I gasped in pain as make up remover stung the cut and snapped me out of my face scrubbing frenzy.

I try not to think, About the pain I feel inside, Did you know you used to be my hero, All the days you spent with me, Now seem so far away, And it feels like you don't care anymore

I rinsed my face and dried it with a soft towel on the counter. Once again, I stood staring at myself in the mirror, where I stood in my clothes, my make up, but the hair hanging limply around my face was still that of the other girl. I opened the medicine cabinet above the sink and smiled slightly as a pulled out the package that I had been saving for a long time.

An hour later, I stepped out of the bathroom, my newly pitch black hair falling into my eyes the way that it used to, before my mother bleached it. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Sure, I looked like me now, but I was the farthest thing from perfect that you could ever find, and I would always be that way. I scowled into the mirror, scrutinizing every aspect of my current appearance. No matter what I do, everything is wrong.

Nothing's gonna change the things that you said, Nothing's gonna make this right again, Please don't turn your back, I can't believe it's hard just to talk to you, But you don't understand

I glared into the mirror, the suppressed anger of having to be someone I'm not for my parents ravaged my mind. What's so wrong about me anyway? I turned to look around my room, with its pink walls, Barbie dolls, and boy band posters. I hated all of it, none of this was mine, this was for the plastic daughter that my parents had fantasized about since I was little. This girl was gone now, and I was back, and this stuff was not mine.

Cuz we lost it all, Nothing lasts forever, I'm sorry I can't be perfect. Now it's just too late, And we can't go back, I'm sorry I can't be perfect

I ran over to my shelves of dolls and in one swift movement, sent every one of them crashing to the floor in a heap of pink plastic. I leapt onto my bed where I reached up and tore down a particularly ugly poster of Justin Timberlake and let it fall to the floor in shreds. I jumped down from the bed and clawed at the gaudy pink and white sheets before hurling them against the far wall, knocking down a school portrait of me from the previous year in which I my braided hair curled around my face like rams horns. I turned back to my bare mattress and flipped it onto the purple carpet with a great heave before spinning on my heal and sprinting out of my room and down the front stairs.

Cuz we lost it all, Nothing lasts forever, I'm sorry I can't be perfect. Now it's just too late, And we can't go back, I'm sorry I can't be perfect

I jumped down the last five steps, landing with a crash on the floor in the same instant that thunder boomed not far from my house. I ran out the front door, slamming it as hard as I could behind me as I continued to run out into the pouring rain that I hadn't noticed until now was falling in sheets all around me. Within seconds, I was drenched through with frigid rain, but I didn't stop. I turned around to take one last look at the house that I was leaving forever and screamed into the stormy night, "I'm sorry I can't be Perfect."

Excellent song by Simple Plan! Mad love for SP:P

Ok, reviews would be worshiped:)