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Reflections. Perfection. Rejection. The three most used words in the high school language. I look around the halls and see flawless faces that look artificial and plastic. My mind spins and I feel outnumbered and alone. They walk around the halls like puppets wearing masks. We are not perfect in their eyes because we are real, with scars, blemishes and flaws.
I walk to class and sit down next to my friend Brianna. One of the populars; Sam looks at Brianna and I with disgust and whispers snidely to her best friend and they giggle loudly enough for us to hear. I look down at my blue hoodie and jeans and roll my eyes at the social snobs of Vancouver Secondary School. As class continues, people give me looks that make me feel like I am being observed under a microscope. My face burns with embarrassment and I excuse myself and race to the bathroom.
I stand still and look at my reflection, my hair is pulled into a messy ponytail and my face has no trace of corruption from drugstore cosmetics. I start to catch my breath, when three girls sashay into the bathroom and shove me out of the way of their saving grace; the mirror. The short blonde pulls out her make-up bag and assembles her tools. She might as well of had the whole cosmetics section of Shoppers Drug Mart in her bag. Mascara, lip gloss, eye liner, you name it, she had it. My heart starts racing and my palms start to sweat. They catch me staring and purse their lips like they swallowed a sour lemon, then one of them says.
"Do you want to borrow some makeup? You could use it." she said holding up her bag.
I turn on my heel and sprint out of the bathroom. I hope they don't follow me because I don't think I could handle an ambush right now. I don't want to be like everyone else and wear and look the same to fit in. I am who I am. Everyday people are judged by people that are so insecure it sickens me. As I am fuming to myself, I collide with someone in the hallway. I look up and come face to face with Braedon, the most popular guy in school. He stares at me for a moment, then stops himself. I open my mouth to say something, but he beats me to it.
"Hey, I am sorry for running into you." he said smiling.
"It's okay; I was just really deep in thought."
"I could tell. What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing important. Anyway, I should get back to class." I said sheepishly.
"What's your name?"
"Well, Jade. You look beautiful."
Braedon turns on his heel and walks away, leaving me speechless. I smile to myself and slowly walk back to class, my head in the clouds. I don't need to be like anyone else, but me. No mask will ever cover me up. I am proud of who I am. Fictitious faces all around me will never stop, but I am in control of how I view myself. Beauty is inside, that no amount of makeup can enhance.