Progressive U Creative Writing

“We are bound to our bodies like an oyster is to its shell.” Plato didn’t wake up one morning and decide that man kind would not be able to change who they are, as a chameleon changes its color. But he did give it one thing that no one can deny; He gave it truth.

Anna Caprellie. Her name so soft and elegant it seemed to dance off the lips of those who spoke it. People are often captivated by the divine beauty of her silky pale skin which lacked all imperfections such as a single freckle or blemish, which teenage years seemed to divulge upon others. Her hair was golden blonde and swayed in unison with her tiny frame, in each step that she took. She had the kind of hair that looked although she had just rolled out of bed, the kind that most girls spent hours to perfect but there was no doubt that hers was a natural as the rest of her beauty.

I remember I would often sit out in the courtyard with my poorly made sandwich in hand, watching as she sat surrounded by swarms of fake wanna’ be girls who did everything possible to change themselves; To make themselves look like Anna. They dyed their hair blonde but never blonde enough to compare to hers. They urged their parents to buy them the expensive couture outfits but none of them looked as good as they did on her, nothing was ever as good as Anna- No one was ever as good as Anna. I sat more days then I could count wishing- waiting for the moment that she would just disappear off the face of the earth. Truly, it was all I ever wanted. I wanted to see her fail. Because in my own mind Anna’s failure was the only thing that would ever really bring my success; maybe not to others, but to me.