one short from perfection
normal disclaimer applies
olette – centric
-x-
Olette had four sisters before her.
Velia was an accomplished pianist.
Rebecca was a great ballet dancer.
Janessa had a pure singing voice.
And Keira, Keira was an artist that thought outside the box.
They all were excellent students in school; each of them had their own talents. Everyone expected Olette to live up to what her sisters were.
Olette the pianist, Olette the ballerina, Olette the singer, Olette the artist, she was all of those things, and more. Her mother had already pushed her to the limit.
In short, Olette was perfection.
Perfection had its limits too, though.
-x-
"Mommy… My ankle hurts, can I skip ballet today?" A young brunette tugged on the skirt of her mother, pointing at the bruise on her ankle. "How can you say that, Olette? It's going to be alright. Now, come on, you'll be late for your piano lessons."
"Mommy… I'm sorry…" A slightly older Olette murmured, tears dripping down her cheeks. "How can you get a B Olette? This was so easy!" Her mother ripped the test in front of her very eyes. "I'm sorry mommy…"
"Second place is not good enough! You should have gotten first place!"
"You call this art? I know you can do much better then that!"
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
She was trained to be perfection the moment she was born, perfection, and nothing short from that. She was walking perfection, smiles, and lies.
Sadly, you can only hold onto perfection for so long, until it shatters and fades away.
Her thoughts betrayed her, her fears lead to her downfall. In the end, she was one short from perfection.
"Don't cry. You're not weak." Her mother snapped at her, when she found Olette curled at the corner of her room. "I'm… I'm sorry."
Look closer, you can see tiny x scars across her wrists. They are tiny, barely seen by the naked eye, but there. You can feel them when you brush against her almost perfect skin.
After all, perfection is just an illusion.
memos ; em, yes. trying to cure my writer's block.