I Am Not Perfect | Teen Ink

I Am Not Perfect

April 13, 2017
By Bookphoenix25 BRONZE, Wyoming, Michigan
Bookphoenix25 BRONZE, Wyoming, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I am not perfect.

I was sketching a line for a drawing, my brush nothing but an extension of my hand, and yet -  It’s not straight. It curves, warping my intentions and now, I must start over again.

I am not perfect.

My anger flared inside me like the flames in the fireplace I were now standing in front of. The sky seemed to tense, threatening a thunderclap. At least the sky was on my side.

“I can’t believe you did that and to her! The one person who had your back from day one, and you just threw her away like she was some piece of garbage? I can’t believe you. I can’t be friends with you anymore.”

I stormed off, my feet pounding the ground beneath me. I felt my finger nails digging into my skin, leaving little crescent shapes in my palm. I couldn’t get her face out of my head. Her eyes created tears, running like a waterfall down her face. My heart sunk, and all I could think was, How could I be so cruel?

I am not perfect.

Shoot. I thought to myself. I stared at another sheet of homework with no words written on it. How could I forget again? My teacher walked over towards me, expecting evidence of my hard work, but she would find none. This wasn’t the first time I had randomly forgotten a homework assignment and it wouldn’t be my last, but for now, I sat there in disappointment with a hand through my curly locks as the teacher had asked why I hadn’t done what was given.

I am not perfect.

“Go to your room!” Her normally calm voice yelled at me. My mom pointed a finger to the small den where I slept every night, tears running down my face. All I had wanted to do was go outside for one quick second. I knew I could make it, all it would take was like 5 seconds and I would be back, but I was 5 seconds too late. Hanging my head in shame, I sombered over to my room and my mom closed what only seemed to be the door from me to the rest of the apartment, but I knew it was the final seal separating me from my freedom.

I am not perfect.

Walking normally with a glass of water in my hand, I made my way into the living room. The TV and it’s bright colors were shining so vividly, I couldn’t help but look over at the sight of it. Unfortunately, all it took were those mere seconds of averting my gaze for me to stub my toe on the couch and drop my drink, spilling the liquid all over the floor. I stood, frozen, watching the carpet soak it up and it’s color only becoming darker as a result. Mom’s gonna kill me. My final thought, before I sprinted into the kitchen for paper towel. Hopping, praying, I could cover the evidence before mom came out of the bedroom and saw the crime I had committed.

I am not perfect, but I can work with it.

I stared at this crooked line and brought up my hand to erase it. I paused. Maybe I can change my idea. Suddenly, my artwork turned from long stretching buildings, to fluffy clouds and clear blue waters right in front of my eyes.

I am not perfect, but I can change.

My eyes searched the big expanse of land with little kids running from either side for the one person I had screamed at. I knew I had to apologize. That person from before wasn’t me. It was the person so consumed by emotion that it got the best of her. When I went to look again, I found her, and I knew that she had already saw me. I smiled and I whispered I’m sorry. She smiled back at me and I let out a sigh of relief.

I am not perfect, but I can take steps to avoid making a previous mistake.

“Okay, your homework is problems are 22-60, evens only.” Her voice echoed in my head as I had scribbled down the assignment into my planner, safely tucked away for later. Finally, after an exhausting day at school, I flopped in my desk chair and began to work on those 19 problems. I knew when I got to school tomorrow I could smile and know I did the job assigned.

I am not perfect, but I can learn from each mistake.

“Stay here,” My mom told me. I nodded and commanded my feet to not move. Although my feet had no control over my eyes when, in the isle close to me in gigantic market, they spotted the biggest teddy bear I’ve ever seen in my life. I wanted so desperately to run over and inspect this big creature, but I couldn’t. Not after what happened before. So I lifted my head high and restrained myself. Who knows? Maybe I could as mom and she could take me over there to look at it.

I am not perfect, but I can be honest.

I was scrubbing the ground, cleaning my bathroom like I had been asked. Humming to myself as I went along, I was in the zone. Then I turned, completely forgetting how close the cleaning product had been before it’s contents spilled all over the ground beside me. I froze. Oh no. I tried to clean it up but I knew I couldn’t. My mom would be wondering why it would be almost empty. Sighing I got up. I guess it’s time to face the music. I walked downstairs and explained what happened and apologized, but this time my mom wasn’t angry. All she told me was it was okay and just to be a little more careful next time. When I had finally returned to start cleaning again, I was still in shock but amazed at how just being honest saved you a lot of hassle in the long run.

I am not perfect but I can learn from my mistakes and I can try my best to better, just as others do,

Because we are not perfect but we can improve.


The author's comments:

My teacher had challenged us to write about a personal experience, and we used inspirtation from the Odyssey. Showing all of Odysseus' journeys and how from every experience, we learned something. I thought about how we make mistakes, but every mistake is a learning experience and I wanted to share some of mine.


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