Atelophobia

An older man stood up at the front of a small stage, a very cheesy and fake smile plastered on his wrinkled face. “Now let’s bring out the lovely young girls for the swimwear competition.” His greedy eyes soaked in the six to seven year old girls with overly done make-up and two pieces. He called out their names and what they liked to do for fun. Not him. Mothers sat eagerly in their seats, nearly bouncing with excitement. They’d clap loudly and yell their daughter’s name when it was their turn to walk. The husbands in the room were convinced that the mother’s were anticipating the trophy more then their daughters.

“Oh look, here she comes,” a young girl, Andrea, whispered excitedly. Her brown eyes sparkled with wonder as her younger cousin walked down the aisle of the stage, her hair was perfectly styled and her smile was white enough to blind people. She looked so happy, she had to have been happy if she was smiling like that. Andrea wished she was that happy. She waited until her cousin was back in line before turning to her aunt, “Aunt Carol, I want to be in a pageant.”

Atelophobia - Fear of imperfection.
Word Count: 1672.
First place for Alexander Bernadotte's Phobia Contest.

Contestant for rescue me.'s contest Your Favorite.

Contestant for silk tea.'s contest Best Of You.