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Keira's Perfection

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Keira currently works as a lifeguard and enjoys writing and theatre in her spare time. She is grateful for this opportunity to share her work and hopes you enjoy her story.

When I open my eyes, all I feel is cold. My fingers are numb, my muscles are stiff, and walking is a challenge. I have no memories. I can barely control my own body. Stitches hold me together. With every step, pain erupts through my body. All I can think about is what might have happened to me.
There are people similar to me; some shorter, taller, or bigger than myself. They call me “ideal,” “perfection,” “beautiful,” but I don’t feel this way. I am different. They don’t seem to care.
They continue to test me. I am fast, strong, agile. I am toned, and my hair extends to …show more content…

I am the first of many. While I may be ideal physically, no one can be perfect.

Grace lives in Ottawa, ON. Her love of writing and literature began only two years ago, but it has quickly grown to be an extremely important part of her life.

A golden light shines through the apartment windows. After drawing open the last curtain, Elowen rests on the window seat and places her breakfast on an unpacked cardboard box. She watches the aftermath of the morning storm cover the city below in a thick, shiny glaze. These are her favourite mornings, when her mother works an early shift. Something about waking up in a quiet house gives her a sense of peacefulness.
Her wandering thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a knock.
Elowen sits for a moment, and then remembers the convenient peephole. With light steps, she makes her way across the whining wooden floor to the door.
Peering through the glass, fish-eyed scope, she sees a woman. Elowen grimaces in the mirror at her pyjamas and brown, wispy hair, and then opens the door, which quickly halts at the length of the chain lock.
“Oh, hello!” the woman chimes, flashing a cranberry-lipped smile. Her brown hair is pulled back into a …show more content…

Elowen panics, staring at the oddly familiar stranger.
“Hi, one second.” Elowen closes the door, unlocking it to then be opened fully.
“I’m sorry, it’s quite early!”
She wears a bright yellow sweater. The woman introduces herself as Elizabeth, the neighbour from down the hall.
Elowen opens her mouth, when she is interrupted by the whistle of the kettle. She rushes to the kitchen. “Would you like some tea?” Elowen asks.
“That would be lovely! As long as I’m not intruding. . . .”
“Oh, of course not. My mother isn’t here right now, but I'll let her know you stopped by. I’m Elowen, by the way; you can call me El.” She gestures to the half-unpacked living room, and Elizabeth takes a seat on the couch.
“Nice to meet you,” she says with a smile.
The two chat casually and sip tea, both sitting with legs crossed and a hand under a knee. Elowen is surprised when her often evil cat, Marvin, shows a liking to her guest. As Elizabeth talks about her job at a museum, Elowen notices four freckles perfectly lining Elizabeth’s left collarbone; then, she lightly touches her own four marks lining the same place.
“Anyway, I should go. Thanks for the tea!” Elizabeth says in a rush.
“No problem, see you later, I

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