Short Stories

"Perfect"

Hey, hey, hey  everyone whose reading this! Thanksgiving is here, so here's a short story giving thanks to all I have! <3
~
I wake up in my huge bed, enveloped in puffy comforters and fluffy pillows. Wait, what? I swivel my head around the room, taking in the spaciousness, the shining wood floors, the sunlight streaking out of the window panes. For some odd reason, it feels unfamiliar, but I brush it off.

Sinking into a pair of plush slippers, I walk out of the room, facing a long hallway. My mind has no idea where to go, but my feet take me into one of the door, into a luxurious bathroom. The sink-top is made of polished granite, the floors of marble. The ceiling is unbelievably tall, and, is that a chandelier. Again, I wonder why I feel so surprised at this. I live here, for heaven's sake! Right? Right? Ignoring my apprehension, I continue to marvel at the bathroom. The lighting is soft, giving the room a warm glow, and on the rack, there's a towel that's so, so soft.

I turn to the bathtub and gasp. The bathtub is about a foot into the floor, with steps leading down to it. Inside, there's dozen of taps, that I somehow know hold things from frothy bubbles to jets of water. I turn back to the countertop, swiveling the taps there, which are made of gold with dragon figureheads. Then I see myself in the mirrors.

My hair is long and silky, as it...always is. I think. I'm tall and slender, with pretty eyes and pretty...everything.

I walk back out of the bathroom, shocked. I feel amazing, but the nagging suspicion I had when I woke up is intensifying. I step down the huge staircase, brushing my fingers on the smooth wooden handholds. Down, down I go. I finally reach the main floor, which is so, so incredibly big, complete with glass side tables and gigantic paintings.

I walk past and infinite amount of hallways to a spacious kitchen. Its lightly furnished, with very-modern swivel-ly chairs, a beautiful, glossy white piano, and an impossibly big dining table next to it.

A good-looking young man walks in, wearing a suit.

"Who are you?!" I ask, surprised.

He only looks at me like I'm stupid not to know and says, "Your butler Stephen, of course."

I look at him, eyebrows knit in confusion. I'm SURE I don't remember him.

He continues in his calm voice. "You have an interview today, Miss."

"For...what, exactly?"

"To talk about your new movie, of course. You're an actress after all."

It was at that moment when I realized something was incredibly wrong. I wasn't a star. I wanted to become an auth-

Of course! I was a world-famous superstar!

Wait, what?

Sure enough, I soon find myself whisked off into a sleek black limo, driven by my chauffeur, named Lisa. She's pretty, and raves about my new movie, and seems to know more about it than I do. Somehow, this all feels wrong. The feeling has intensified ever since I woke up and I'm beginning to feel antsy.

We pull into an outdoor auditorium, packed with fans, paparazzi, and flashing cameras. Just seeing all the people packed together made me queasy. What was I doing here anyways? Why did I wake up as an actress. Surprisingly, this panic is what finally brings me to my senses. I am a complete introvert. This is not what I ever wanted. Whoever put me here had it all wrong, and they'd just made their biggest mistake.

I careen out of the limousine, slamming the door behind me...then promptly trip. Stupid heels! I curse under my breath before kicking them off. Then I run, feeling the wind flying past my ear. Behind me, I hear the crowd screeching, but they move clumsily due to the massive signs the merchandise. MY merchandise. Ugh. I almost throw up in my mouth.

I turn around and immediately regret it. Lisa has put the limo in gear and it's careening toward me, tires screeching. Either I turn, or get run over. I turn of course, although there's a horde of fans right there. Who the heck thought this would be the "perfect life"?! I manage to roll away from the rabid fans, then swivel to the left and run.

I've been running for what seems like ages, but for some reason, it my pursuers seem to be gone. As the sun sets, I pass out from pure exhaustion.

~

I wake up to a familiar sight. My mom is perched over, looking very, very concerned. I'm still sticky with sweat and I'm still wearing that hideous, glittery dress.

I scream. "W...what happened?!"

My mom looks incredibly pale. "Oh honey! You weren't at your bed in the morning. Dad and I and the police were searching and searching and searching. At the end of the day, we found you, passed out on the doorstep. There was a man there. He apologized. His name was...Stephen. The police took him away."

~

Its been a week since all that happened, and I'm still shaken. It also happens that today is Thanksgiving. At the dinner table, I think back to it all. The glamour, the fancy clothes and house, that ended in horrors. I'm thankful for what I have, everything I have. Some dreams will become reality, but others should always stay only dreams.