Sparklejoy Octavia Evenstarr pouted at her floor-length mirror. "Stupid Arwen," she said. "Why does she get everything? Why do I have to be cursed with HER as a twin sister?!"

She sighed and flounced around her room. "Aragorn is so hot and manly," she continued. "He should have picked me. I could have been the Queen of Gondor. But noooooooo, Arwen had to go and steal him away from me!"

Sparklejoy threw her hands up in the air melodramatically. "What is so special about her? Why does everyone think she's better than me?! I'm a special snowflake, too! I'm just as wonderful and unique a person as anyone else! Including her!"

The elven princess, now extremely miffed, caught her hands and reattached them. She then crossed her arms irately. "No one can sing 'Call Me Maybe' like I can! Everyone says I have a unique voice! I've been told I sound JUST LIKE a cat screaming in pain as she vocalizes her inner torment!"

She frowned. "Maybe that's it. All that inner torment. Because I had such a horrible and traumatic childhood! I should have a handsome love interest to protect me from my angsty feels! People should feel sorry for me! But nooooooo, they just talk about how wonderful Arwen is! No one loves ME!"

Sparklejoy stomped her foot petulantly. "Arwen isn't better than me! I have self-esteem! I know my value! Arwen can't speak to animals like I can! And she doesn't have a fluffy pink unicorn-dragon, either!" She brightened and looked at her fluffy pink unicorn-dragon, which had magically appeared right next to her. "Isn't that right, my adorable darling Lollipop-Cupcake?"

Lollipop-Cupcake meowed and breathed a puff of flame. Sparklejoy took that as an affirmative, apparently unaware that the skirt of her rainbow-striped, sparkly ball gown, embroidered with purple scribble-hearts, was now on fire. "At least you understand me, Lollipop-Cupcake."

"WHY? WHY DOES THE UNIVERSE HAT ME?" She stared at her mirror imploringly, then sighed. An unflattering new hat had suddenly appeared on her head. The flames climbing up her dress crackled emphatically.

At this point, Sparklejoy noticed that she was on fire. She screamed.

Fortunately, she soon recalled that the proper procedure to deal with this sort of situation was called Stop, Drop, and Roll. After another moment of thought, Sparklejoy also realized that the procedure was exactly what it sounded like. Ergo, she stopped, dropped, and rolled- or, more precisely, she floated gracefully to the ground and tumbled elegantly until all of the fire had disappeared.

This procedure also had the benefit of loosing the ugly inexplicably-generated hat from her head. Her (dignified!) flailing had, additionally, crushed the thing until it was flat as a pancake.

Unfortunately, her dress was ruined. A single sparkling diamond tear ran down her cheek. (Diamond-tears were actually very useful; she made bracelets out of them when she was bored.)

Sparklejoy turned back to her mirror. "I know what it is. It's all because ARWEN looks like however-many-greats-grandmother Luthien! It's not fair! I'm beautiful, too! Look at me. I have long eyelashes and unbelievably large eyes that flash every color of the rainbow! Arwen's eyes are only one color! That's boring and conformist! And I have long midnight-ebony-black hair with blue and purple glittery streaks! And a pierced nose! And exotic cheekbones and rosy cheeks and a heart-shaped face, and totally kissable ruby-red lips! Plus I have vampire fangs! I've read Twilight, so I know fangs are really hot! Aragorn SHOULD be falling for me like-like THAT!" She tried to illustrate her point by snapping her fingers, but her long, perfectly manicured fingernails (perfect for scratching eyes out) got in the way.

"And i eeven has cruves in AL TE RITE PLASES! Its all-nautral, two! No mayke-up, know plastik surgury!" (Sparklejoy couldn't spell a lie to save her life.)

"Why am I talking to a mirror, anyways? Why would it have answers for me? This isn't Snow White!" She pouted. "Stupid Disney princesses. They're all beautiful. THEY always get the guy they want."

Suddenly, Sparklejoy had a thought. This unusual event was celebrated by the sound of a choir and a chorus of trumpets. "At least Aragorn won't live forever. So Arwen won't live forever either! Ha! I'll be glad when she dies! I'll dance on her grave!" Consumed by a sudden fit of rage, she smashed a fist into the mirror. "DIE, ARWEN!" The glass shattered and fell in a million glittering pieces around her.

Sparklejoy smirked. "I ought to go to Mirkwood. I'll talk to the spiders and get them to fake-attack me, and then Legolas can rescue me and we can fall in looove! That will show her!"

Satisfied with her plan, she spun around and started walking towards her door. Unfortunately, she was not wearing shoes, and there was glass on the floor. Sparklejoy shrieked in pain and collapsed, her feet bleeding profusely. Her face crumpled, and she sobbed.

"Why does this always happen to me?!" Sparklejoy cried, full of anguish, and fury and despair. "Rejected, made fun of, and hated by everyone! It never happens to Arwen! She's all perfect and I'm not! It isn't FAIR!"

"Just because she's beautiful," she whispered, picking up a shard of mirror to study her own face. The sharp-edged glass cut into her fingers, and blood dripped onto the surface. Her blood was glittery and pink. Unnatural, just like the rest of her. Marred. "She's beautiful, and I'm not."

Thats te ownly reezon, she told herself. Cuz ur perf! Tots perf. Da mowst PERRFEKT purson in de wurld.

Maybe she should start controlling minds, to make everyone believe that she was PERFECT.

Maybe someday, she'd believe it, too.