I hate her. I just hate her. There aren’t words for the depth of the hatred that wrenches my gut every single time I see her face.
Life is so unfair.
If life was fair, she would wear my face for a day. Feel what it’s like to walk in my shoes, to not be such a goddess. I should be the goddess, a real goddess. I would curse her to suffer my fate. She would feel the agony of being plain like me. If life was fair, I wouldn’t have to stare at her every miserable day.
Everything about her is so perfect. Why does she have to be so perfect? Not a mark blemishes her skin. Mirrored brows that have never seen tweezers a day in their life drape eyes of crystal blue. The slender elegance of her nose, the kissable sweetness in her Barbie doll lips… I wish she was a picture, a perfect little picture, so I could tear her to shreds.
She knows she has it all. I can see it in her face. Her absolutely flawless, even-the-angels-would-be-jealous face. Rubbing my nose in her beauty gives her such sickening satisfaction. I want to kill her. I’d rake out her mocking eyes, if I could only touch her.
I remember when she was little. God, I hated her then too. Her pretty blonde hair and her adorable pink cheeks stole everyone’s attention and she always had to be first. First at everything. She was first to get her ears pierced, first to wear makeup, first to wear the glow of a boy’s first kiss.
She thinks I want to be like her, to be her. Her smug smile teases me when she thinks it. But she’s wrong. I don’t want to be her. I don’t. I hate her for even thinking it. I hate her self-righteous looks. I hate her just for being her, for not being me.
If life was fair, I’d make her take my place. I would make her stare at my framed beauty in envy. I would be the one with the smug smile, and the taunting, reproachful eyes of sapphire. If life was fair, I could bring myself to smash her.
Life is so unfair.
I’ll probably have to stare at her for the rest of my days. I wouldn’t have to if I died, if I killed myself. She’d have no one to torment anymore. It would serve her right. I’d hate myself to Hell for giving her the satisfaction, but I’d be first.
© 2012 Anne Schilde
This was written for the second round (Envy) of the The Deadly Sins Series writing challenge hosted by k8tedid. There really have been some great entries and it’s worth stopping by even if only to read.