Our Sins, Vanity and Envy
Rosalie looked into her vanity mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, a sudden purple flash of pride in her eyes.
She leaned forward, taking in every detail of her perfect porcelain skin. Her long, ebony hair fell to her waist in soft waves, framing her slim face like a halo and crystal blue eyes sparkling like perfect diamonds. Rosalie continued to stare.
Perfect.
One word. One simple word that described her in everyway.
From her perfect appearance to her perfect body. From her perfect parents to her perfect boyfriend. To her perfect grades to her prefect social life.
She looked around her room. Purple walls stared back at her, covered in different picture from various parties, school tips and holidays. Her black canopy bed was the main focus point in her room. Off to the side were her Plasma TV and computer. The shelves on the walls were littered with cheerleading trophies, gold medals and soft plush toys.
She looked at the picture frame on her bedside cabinet. It was a picture of her standing in front of a blonde boy with amazingly blue eyes. He had his arms rapped around her waist while hers were rapped around his neck. He was smiling, his teeth were a perfect white and he had dimples on his cheeks.
Everything in her life was prefect. Nothing was wrong; she got everything she asked for when she asked for it. She was the girl that everybody wanted to be. She had it all, friends, grades, a prefect boyfriend, she was even practicing her prom queen speech even thought the prom was two months away.
"Look at me. I mean, how can they NOT choose me as prom queen. I'm gorgeous"
She looked at her prom dress that was lying flat against her bed. A perfect dark purple gown with a purple shawl and shoes to match. She had even picked out the best diamonds to accompany it.
She knew she was being vain, but she didn't care. She knew that she was perfect, so why deny it, nobody else did so why should she.
She picked up her mobile and speed-dialled her boyfriend. Arranging to meet him later on. After the quick conversation, she walked toward her larger closet and browsed around for something to wear which would make her look beautiful.
Her eyes landed on the perfect outfit. Grabbing the outfit she got changed.
Alex glared at her wall mirror, sending a look of disgust to reflection. She glared daggers at it, willing for the glass to shatter into millions of pieces.
Her hands balled into fists, her nails digging into the skin leaving small crescent cuts. She looked down at her hands. Small blood droplets oozed from the cuts, looking out of place on her slightly tanned skin.
Average.
That infuriating word haunted her day and night. She didn't want to be average. She wanted to be above average. She walked to her bookcase and pulled out the annual school year book. She sat on her bed, flicking through the pages. She stopped flicking when something or someone caught her eye.
Rosalie Caine.
There she was, 'Little Miss Perfect', with her perfect hair and perfect skin and prefect body and her perfect life. A green flash of envy shone in her simple brown eyes.
Oh, how she wanted to be like Rosalie. To have everything she had. She slammed the book shut and flung it across her room, hitting the green wall with a dull thud then falling to the floor.
Alex rolled over till she was lying flat against her emerald green sheets. She grabbed one of her pillows, bringing it to her face and screamed. All her anger was let out of her body…or so she thought.
She flung her pillow, jumping up from her bed and walked back over to her mirror. Watery black mascara tears fell down her tanned cheeks, anger radiate from her eyes.
Why didn't she have a life like Rosalie! Rosalie didn't deserve to have what she did!
She glared at the mirror. She couldn't take it anymore. She balled her right hand into a fist and punched the mirror. Pieces flew everywhere, falling to her black wooden floor, the sound echoing through her room.
Rosalie didn't deserve to be popular. She didn't deserve to be beautiful. She didn't deserve to be perfect!
She did! She worked hard her whole life for nothing! While Rosalie sat back and did nothing and got all the credit for it!
Suddenly Alex came to a conclusion. And with that, she grabbed her black leather jacket and her house keys and walked out her bedroom door, down the stairs and into the starry night.
Rosalie walked out of her house, her long skirt swaying in the wind. She was on her way to visit her boyfriend. Her lips curved into a perfect smile, her eyes twinkled like the stars above her.
She heard a rustle of leaves from her left. She turned around and saw nothing. Shrugging her shoulders she continued onward. Her footsteps echoed into the night and she walked alone down the empty street.
Another set of footsteps were heard. She stopped. Her hearts jumped into her throat and a sense of panic washed over her.
She quickened her footsteps, which soon turned into a run. She ran down as dark alley, her long hair following behind her. She came to a dead end as her heart beat increased ten-fold.
She saw a shadow move and turned around. She saw a single silhouette, ten feet from were she was standing. "W-who are you!?!" she cried but her question fell on deaf ears as she got no reply. The silhouette raised something above there head, then, everything went black.
"Today, at 9:00 am, a body was found in an alley, bruised and beaten to death. The body was so badly beaten that it is impossible to identify. There we no clues found at or around the crime scene. The police while not give up and they will continue to search for the killer. Hopefully the identity of the body shall be found and the family will be notified."
Alex put down the paper, here brown eyes widened in shock. "Impossible to identify", had she beaten her that bad? She read over the story again, the more se read the more she realised what she had done.
She stood up, knocking her chair over, and slammed the paper onto the dining table. Tears were threatening to spill out of her eyes. She bowed her head down, a shadow cast over her eyes.
She paused.
She had done it. She had done something that Rosalie could never do. Would ever do.
She had committed the perfect murder.
A sinister smile formed on her face, and her eyes seemed to turn into slits. She started to laugh. This was the first perfect thing that she had ever done. The feeling of being average washed away as a new sense of power and dominance took over her.
Why stop at one? Why not get rid of the other 'perfect' people in the world? She could do it. If she committed one perfect murder why not commit another.
Everything seemed so clear to her now. She had found her purpose in life…and she was going to fulfil it…whether it killed her.
Creative-Prose Fiction Amie McGuire Miss Cairns English 1,234 words