Perfect family.

Perfect friends.

Perfect life.

Many people of the world, especially teenagers, crave to have everything be perfect and normal. Their clothes. Their hair. Their…everything. But as Rebecca came to discover, perfection was not as good as it was cut out to be.

Sure, her peers were visibly jealous of her luck. Her perfect blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. Perfect figure. Perfect grades. Perfect parents, who gave her everything she wished for and desired. Perfect everything.

All of her life she had been told. “You’re lucky, you’re perfect.”

Lucky? How was being perfect a good thing? She was an outcast because no one thought themselves worthy enough to speak to her. She never saw her parents because they were always to busy working. She was lonely, completely alone.

If someone wanted her so-called luck they could have it! They could damn well have it! Have her life. All she wanted was friends and family who cared for her. Talked to her about more than how perfect and lucky she was, or how great her future would be when she took over the family business.

Truth was she didn’t care if she was rich, if she was pretty, or if she was lucky. She just wanted someone who saw her as her. Not the rich blonde girl. No, but as Rebecca. She wanted someone to see her. That was all she wanted. All she craved.