Perfection
1/1
It seems like the harder you try, the more you are ignored.
Or, at least, that's always been my experience. I can do so much, I've tried so hard. I've always wanted to be everything that everyone wanted me to be. But no one has ever taken notice. No one has ever seen anything but my imperfections.
But they will now. I'll show them all what I'm capable of.
**
“Tommy! Tommy get up, why are you never awake on time!”
My mother's shrill voice echoed down the hall, piercing through my headphones and into my ears. Of course, she wouldn't know that I was already awake. She never did, because she never bothered to check. Every day, I woke myself up, got myself ready, and then listened to her scream the same words. Why can't you do anything right? Why can't you be different than your brothers, your father? Why can't you be good? I was a fuck up.
Just like my father. Just like my brothers. I was destined to fail. I never had a chance.
Eighteen years I had been living like this. Always trying to disprove the legacy of my father and brothers, ad never given the chance. After five Wells' brothers before me, and a father in and out of jail, why would I be any different?
But I was. I was different! I made straight A's! I was the only one who was going to finish high school. Even my mother hadn't finished! But I was still just another fuck up. I was still only just another disappointment.
You would think after eighteen years of this torture, I would just give up. But I hadn't; I couldn't. I wanted to prove them all wrong. I wanted to be perfect for them. I could do it, everything, on my own. I had done everything on my own. But no one had noticed. Eighteen years, and no one had noticed.
I just wanted them to notice.
Today was going to be the day it all ended. Today would be the day they would notice. I packed IT into my backpack, walked out my bedroom door and down the hall, kissed my mother good bye and went to school.
First period, my teacher looked surprised to see me. Every day, I came into class. Sat in the same spot. And yet, every day she looked surprised to see me doing something right. All my teachers did. I went through all of my classes, and every day they treated the fact that I even bothered to show up as a miracle.
The other students, my own classmates, would look shocked if I knew the right answer. They would sneer and laugh if I go anything wrong. “Of course,” they would say, “he's just another idiot Wells' brother. What did you expect?” I couldn't handle it anymore. I thought that I was strong – but no one was this strong. I couldn't take being the failure anymore. I wasn't a failure. I could do something right. Shaking, finally at lunch, I pulled IT out of my backpack.
Time to be noticed.
**
Seventh period, and I was starting to feel IT. I pulled out my iPod, put a headphone into my ear, and tried to ignore how terrible I felt. No one else ever noticed. Surely it would be easy to ignore myself.
My heart felt like it was pumping sludge through my veins instead of blood. Was my heart beat slowing? My head was fuzzy. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't even see. Suddenly, I couldn't ignore IT anymore. I collapsed, slipped from my desk. The pills had finally caught up with me. The prescription bottle slipped from my pocket. My mother would be so upset that I wasted all her pills. They were coursing through my body. Two handfuls? Three? I couldn't even remember. It didn't matter. All that did, was I was finally being noticed. I had finally done something right, and everyone had noticed. They were all gathered around, staring. Acknowledging. A smile was on my face, and my iPod continued to play as the world slipped from my grasp.
“I tried to be perfect, but nothing was worth it; I don't believe it makes me real...”
Or, at least, that's always been my experience. I can do so much, I've tried so hard. I've always wanted to be everything that everyone wanted me to be. But no one has ever taken notice. No one has ever seen anything but my imperfections.
But they will now. I'll show them all what I'm capable of.
**
“Tommy! Tommy get up, why are you never awake on time!”
My mother's shrill voice echoed down the hall, piercing through my headphones and into my ears. Of course, she wouldn't know that I was already awake. She never did, because she never bothered to check. Every day, I woke myself up, got myself ready, and then listened to her scream the same words. Why can't you do anything right? Why can't you be different than your brothers, your father? Why can't you be good? I was a fuck up.
Just like my father. Just like my brothers. I was destined to fail. I never had a chance.
Eighteen years I had been living like this. Always trying to disprove the legacy of my father and brothers, ad never given the chance. After five Wells' brothers before me, and a father in and out of jail, why would I be any different?
But I was. I was different! I made straight A's! I was the only one who was going to finish high school. Even my mother hadn't finished! But I was still just another fuck up. I was still only just another disappointment.
You would think after eighteen years of this torture, I would just give up. But I hadn't; I couldn't. I wanted to prove them all wrong. I wanted to be perfect for them. I could do it, everything, on my own. I had done everything on my own. But no one had noticed. Eighteen years, and no one had noticed.
I just wanted them to notice.
Today was going to be the day it all ended. Today would be the day they would notice. I packed IT into my backpack, walked out my bedroom door and down the hall, kissed my mother good bye and went to school.
First period, my teacher looked surprised to see me. Every day, I came into class. Sat in the same spot. And yet, every day she looked surprised to see me doing something right. All my teachers did. I went through all of my classes, and every day they treated the fact that I even bothered to show up as a miracle.
The other students, my own classmates, would look shocked if I knew the right answer. They would sneer and laugh if I go anything wrong. “Of course,” they would say, “he's just another idiot Wells' brother. What did you expect?” I couldn't handle it anymore. I thought that I was strong – but no one was this strong. I couldn't take being the failure anymore. I wasn't a failure. I could do something right. Shaking, finally at lunch, I pulled IT out of my backpack.
Time to be noticed.
**
Seventh period, and I was starting to feel IT. I pulled out my iPod, put a headphone into my ear, and tried to ignore how terrible I felt. No one else ever noticed. Surely it would be easy to ignore myself.
My heart felt like it was pumping sludge through my veins instead of blood. Was my heart beat slowing? My head was fuzzy. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't even see. Suddenly, I couldn't ignore IT anymore. I collapsed, slipped from my desk. The pills had finally caught up with me. The prescription bottle slipped from my pocket. My mother would be so upset that I wasted all her pills. They were coursing through my body. Two handfuls? Three? I couldn't even remember. It didn't matter. All that did, was I was finally being noticed. I had finally done something right, and everyone had noticed. They were all gathered around, staring. Acknowledging. A smile was on my face, and my iPod continued to play as the world slipped from my grasp.
“I tried to be perfect, but nothing was worth it; I don't believe it makes me real...”