I Am Perfect

I am perfect.

 

I am one of a kind. I am the image of perfection. From the roots of my beautiful, radiant, jet-black hair, down to my soft, pink toes. I am the epitome of beauty.

 

<Groans, moans, a series of wild cries and curses.>

 

I am worshipped for my beauty. My dark brown eyes captivate, my thin, heart-shaped lips seduce, my body curves entice the imagination of men. I drive them wild by the mere flip of my waist-length hair, or a wanting look in the eye that tells them, "Take me, I'm yours." I am their Venus... their image of the perfect woman.

 

<Panting, more moaning, and a name is called out again and again. Finally, after one final cry, a body drops above another. Silence echoes in the dimly lit room.>

 

I am the picture of a perfect lady. I am chaste, meek, prim and proper. I have faultless etiquette, exquisite charm and an unflawed character. I am the perfect gentleman's dream wife.

 

I sat up, grabbed a small pink box and a lighter from the bed side table and got a stick from the box. I looked down at the naked man sleeping beside me. I rolled my eyes and puffed out a white, bluish smoke. I massaged my temples, then glanced at him again; this time, he was looking at me, showing a perfect set of pearly whites. He got up and knelt before me, my thighs trapped inside his, his face leveled to mine.

 

"Hey."

 

I nodded, not looking at him, and continued to puff out smoke rings.

 

"How about you and I going out on Friday? You know, eat, talk, get to know each other well…"

 

I turned my head towards his and placed a sarcastic smile on my pink lips.

 

"Sweetie, I thought we had an agreement on this relationship?"

 

"Yeah, but you know, I just figured-"

 

"Look Vince, I'm in this just for the f**k."

 

I blew smoke on his face, slid under him, went to the side of the bed and gathered up my clothes. In a matter of minutes I was fully dressed. I walked towards the door and was about to go out when he called out to me.

 

"Khail, I-"

 

"It's over, Vince. Don't call me."

 

And without looking back, I left the room, not even bothering to close the door.

 

I am the perfect woman. Everyone is dying to have me.

 

My name is Mikhail, pronounced "mik-hail". I'm nineteen and was devirginized when I was fifteen. I had tons of boyfriends, none of them lasting for about two weeks. I was branded "the school w***e" for two years in a row, and I'm up to my third year. Usually, the autobiography starts with the family background, but you see, I ain't got one. Of course I have a mom and a dad; how else could I have gotten into this sick world? They were annulled when I was fifteen; and yes, that same night I lost my hymen. I didn't say innocence, because on my opinion, I've lost that one when I was four…when my parents showed me the real world.

 

I never had those childish fantasies, princes and princesses getting married to live happily ever after. My fantasies were being a billionaire, getting my own house so I could leave that hell with two great devils, having a good f**k every night, and dying filthy f*****g rich. But then, we weren't that poor. My dad was close on being a millionaire. I wanted the money so I could escape their grasp and leave them forever; I've been through too much.

 

Back to my family. My dad was a loan shark turned into a manager of a loaning company; my mom was a secretary at a firm. They started having problems when I was four. They usually fought over money, sometimes about their affairs. When my mom found out about dad's fifth woman, she decided to draw the line. When my father went out on a business trip, my mom brought home her 19-year-old lover and fucked till kingdom come. I tried to cut off her screams of pleasure from my mind, but I just couldn't. This went on for eleven more years. Finally, when they thought I was big enough to take care of myself, they were annulled. While they were fighting over who would take me, for neither one wanted to, I sneaked out of the house and climbed up to our neighbor's window; that was where my first boyfriend lived. He's been trying to get into my pants for the last five days; I just gave him what he wanted. I don't recall crying over the pain of losing my hymen. What I did cry on was the thought that from then on, I'll only have one parent. And I didn't like that.

 

I ended up with my dad. He bought me a small condo unit that was close to my school. He gave me money and never went to see me. I was fine by that; I didn't want to see him either.

 

I am a fine student. I am intelligent and logical. I am diligent, patient, industrious and full of dreams to make the world a better place; a woman of pride and wisdom. Someday I will have a good paying job, and will be successful in it. My brain and my beauty will serve their purpose. I will be great, for I am perfect.

 

I'm smart; well, at least I think I am. I belong to the first section of every class I go into. Though my grades are only average, I consider myself smart. I know the basics: how to cheat and get away with it, to plagiarize and not get caught, and I knew all my teacher's weakness and bunge-spots (manipulating them was so easy). I really don't know how I'm going to be rich, but I'm working on it. I'm smart; I can think of something ingenious.

 

I am the perfect friend. I am loving, caring and understanding. I patiently listen to my friends' problems and give wise and practical advices. I always have a shoulder to cry on, and a hand offered to those in need. I am selfless and mature. I love unconditionally.

 

Friends? I have one. His name is Steven. He's the class nerd. He's really sweet and understanding, though he lacks a bit of humor. He was the only one who believed that I wasn't that evil; he was the one who stuck with me through every hardship I encountered. He helped me through everything. He was my gem, the only good thing I had in this damned world, and the only person I'm willing to live and die for.

 

I am religious. I am a good Christian. I have a good and strong heart, able to resist any temptation. I have a stable and impeccable faith in Him, my Creator and Savior. I am immaculate, an angel inside and out.

 

I believe that nothing is purely good and purely evil in this world. I believe there's a God, yes, but I don't really have an intimate relationship with him. I do what I must do, according to what I know is right. Sure, I get fucked every now and then. But hey, as long as I don't ruin any lives or get diseases or kill someone, I don't see anything wrong with it.

 

I went inside a restaurant in front of the motel and ordered a shot of brandy. I pondered on Vince, pitying him. I mean, he's great in bed, but he's…well…kind. He's loving and sweet and adorable; he makes me puke. He can be very possessive sometimes. He'd want me to stay in the bed for an hour, just cuddling with him. I rolled my eyes, thinking of why I'm still in this relationship. Then, I remembered I just ended it a few minutes ago. My phone rang: it was Steven. I smiled.

 

"Hey, slugger."

 

"Hey, gorgeous."

 

I love it when he calls me that. It was refreshing to hear his voice again.

 

"So, why did you call?"

 

"Well, I just finished our report and thought maybe we could watch a movie later, just to unwind."

 

"Sure! Your house?"

 

"Yup."

 

"Ok. I'll be there in 20."

 

I am perfect. Everybody accepts me. I detest no one, and cause no trouble. I am adorable and irresistible. Everyone loves me.

 

I hung up, still smiling. Every minute with Steven is like a hot bath: revitalizing and relaxing. I got my bag and was about to leave when I bumped unto someone.

 

"Watch it, you b*****d."

 

I looked up and saw Vince's face. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

 

"Vince, what do you want?"

 

"You will not leave me. You can't."

 

I stared at his eyes and saw they were not the same eyes I knew. There was something different about him, something that made my spine tingle.

 

"It's over. I got what I wanted of you."

 

He grabbed my arm and shook me.

 

"You can't leave me, Mikhail. I love you!"

 

I winced at the pain he was inflicting in my arm. I tried to wrench out of his grip but he held me tighter.

 

"V-Vince, my a-arm…"

 

He let go suddenly, as if the demon that possessed him left. He hugged me, whispering apologies. I pushed him away, gave him a questioning stare then walked towards the door.

 

"Mikhail!"

 

I turned and saw the gun pointed at me.

 

"You will not leave me!"

 

I stood frozen on the spot. The people in the resto closed their mouths in fear; no one moved nor dared to look at me. I looked around for help, but no one offered a reassuring glance.

 

"Please put that down, Vince. Ok, fine, I won't leave you. Let's go out now, ok? Calm down."

 

Shaking, I slowly walked towards him, slowly lowered his gun, and hugged him. I put my arm on his waist and led him out of the resto. We went back to the motel, walked up a series of steps and arrived at the same room. After I closed the door, he suddenly hugged me. He hugged me tight, squeezing my body as if he was crushing me to death.

 

"Please don't do that again.. I love you…"

 

I couldn't breathe, so I beat his back with my fists, muffling screams on his chest. I was beginning to black out when I pushed my knee up to his crotch. He let go suddenly; he fell down the floor, shouting curses. I wanted to get out, but he had a gun. I knelt down beside him and reached for it, but he had grabbed my arm and was yanking me towards him.

 

"You will not leave me, Mikhail. Give me back my gun!"

 

I pulled away from him and stood a few feet away, pointing the gun at him.

 

"You're sick, Vince. It's a good thing I'm leaving you."

 

"NO!"

 

He got up and walked towards me. Out of impulse, I felt my finger move. I opened my eyes and saw him, standing in front of me, staring at the hole on the floor. I looked up and saw his eyes changed once more; they were glaring at me, scaring the hell out of me.

 

"Put that down, Mikhail, or you'll be sorry."

 

"No."

 

He shouted a curse and ran towards me. I felt my finger move once more. This time, I heard something drop on the floor, something big. I opened my eyes and saw him kneeling in front on me, his hand on his bleeding chest. I dropped the cold metal, backed away and clung at the wall. My whole body was becoming numb. Before my strength left me completely, I decided to run to the only place I felt safe: in Steven's arms.

 

I am perfect. I am the epitome of beauty, of perfection. I am the modern Mary, the ideal wife and mother. I am wonderful, unbelievably faultless, unspoiled, absolute and immortal.

 

I ran out of the motel, called a cab and told the driver my destination. In 15 minutes I was at their doorstep. I rang the bell. Steven opened the door.

 

"It's about time. I should've known-"

 

He stopped talking. His beautiful smile faded as he looked at my face, down to my crimson-stained top. He hugged me tight, not as tight as Vince did; it was warm and heartening. I didn't know how I got inside the house, or how I have changed my clothes. I snapped back, and realized that I was already on the sofa, staring at the fire crackling before me.

 

I am perfect. Nothing more, nothing less.

 

I glanced on my side and saw Steven: his deep blue eyes behind those glasses were full of compassion for a huge pile of filth that was me. He went closer and held my hand. Then, after fifteen long years, I cried.

 

I am perfect… but only through his thick, round glasses.