Perfect Life | Teen Ink

Perfect Life

August 23, 2008
By CarakinWonder BRONZE, Columbia, South Carolina
CarakinWonder BRONZE, Columbia, South Carolina
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"To be great is to be misunderstood..." ---Emerson


The blaring rock music coming from the oversized speakers sent rattling vibrations through my body. I had never like Flypaper or Paradex- whatever band this was but at the moment, I wished upon them great misfortune. I endured the torture for the acceptance of my new stepdaughter. She loathed me, I could tell. I was foreign, placed in a position of importance. Where a warm mother had once been, there was now the evil stepmother. I couldn’t say that I enjoyed her company much either. Too dark, too brooding, too distrusting of anything not like her grim outlook. But for the sake of a new family, the sake of a perfect family I had to impress her. The party a disguise for a ploy to show her I “cared” about her, when I could care less. Pushing through the bodies cloaked in black and blue I wondered how that Gothic girl could had such a cast amount of friends. I placed another stack of black, plastic plates on a snack table adorned with bats, a soft clicking feeling rushing under my fingertips. I tried to race out of the basement, but a teary-eyed stepdaughter blocked my path to freedom. I couldn’t stay here much longer. I couldn’t stay here much longer. I couldn’t stand her and her friends. She screamed, “Can we talk?” Matching the words of the lyrics perfectly I thought she was singing. I gave a fake smile and patted her on the shoulder. I made another mad dash and went through the door. Halfway to the stairs I heard it again. “Can we talk?” I turned slowly, inching around with care and stared down at my new stepdaughter. I almost snarled at the back streaks in the blond hair she detested but the locks her father wouldn’t let her lose. The sterling silver rod through her eyebrow, the sparkly, violet eyeshadow, and the blunt, black lipstick. A plain skull t-shirt, straight from Hot Topic, and ripped fishnets to boot. A sharp contrast to my all-over flash of pink ensemble. “S-sure, sweetie.” I stammered, dutifully surprised. She grimaced, for a moment and I came down the steps, my heels clacking on the wood. “I have something to tell you.” She admitted. “I can’t keep the lid on the bottle any longer. I’m going to let it fizz.” I gazed at her, my arms crossed neat and tight. “I guess it’s kinda bad but I frankly don’t mind anymore.” My stepdaughter choked out, her voice cracking and her hands wringing together. “You’re the first person I thought to come to. I know we had a rough beginning. But,” She waved to the basement door. “You proved you can care.” I beamed, all working according to plan. I felt no pang of guilt, that would only come it my dream was destroyed. “I have to tell you my secret.” She sobbed. Tears that had been locked before, sprang out and spread mascara down her cheeks. “I…well, d-” My stepdaughters words were strangled by an eruption of metallic music, screaming voices, and the sudden bang of a wooden door against a wall. Hands grabbed my stepdaughter’s arm and pulled her into the dark recesses of a black lighted basement. “It’s your party!” Detached voices screeched and laughed and bellowed together. “We’ll figure it out, honey! Your secret’s safe with me!” I called out, an evil grin plastered on my face. The door slammed again, locking my stepdaughter in the jaws of a roaring beast. As I walked up the steps, I giggled to myself. All the benefits of secret-sharing without all the commitment of actually knowing said secret. I hadn’t heard a word of my stepdaughter’s secret. I did a dance to a good song in my head. I sang to myself. “Here I come, perfect life.”


The author's comments:
This was inspired by a postcard sent to PostSecrets.com that said- "My stepdaughter tearfully confessed her greatest secret to me. But…the room was loud and I couldn’t hear her. Now I just pretend that I know what she said to me."

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