05 ❀ I like the burn it gives

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I LIKE THE BURN IT GIVES!

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I LIKE THE BURN IT GIVES!

00:05

**✿❀ ❀✿**

ABIGAIL JUMPED OUT OF HER BED; SHE
had awoken from her afternoon nap with her hair a mess while she ran through the hallway into the living room where her mother was lying down.

"I'm awake, Momma!" She smiled brightly, sitting on the couch.

"When is grandma coming? Is she going to spend the night?" Abigail wondered if Catherine would sleep in the living room every night when Y/n was at work instead of driving 10 minutes back to her house on the opposite side of Vancouver.

"We are going to be going to the store, Abby. We're just waiting for her to get here to pick us up." Abigail nodded, standing up from her seat and walking towards the other part of the living room where some of her toys were.

Besides asking Y/n for a PB&J sandwich, she was mostly quiet since she was pretty hungry after her nap.

Abigail held her favorite doll and sat it beside her on the table, leaning against the fruit basket. She ate as she talked to the beauty, "No, Stella. You can't have this; this is my food." Abigail announced, moving her plate away from the beauty.

"Momma, can Stella come with us?" Abigail asked, turning around in her chair. "Of course, Abby." Y/n nodded to the young girl before looking at her phone. She could see that she received messages from her mother and Y/n's friend, Claudia.

Ignoring them, Y/n walked through the hallway towards her room; there was no way she would leave the house looking like this.

She cared about how she looked a little bit too much; y/n's hair was always perfect because she ensured it was.

Y/n was not perfect. Her obsession with perfection made her everything but. Nonetheless, Y/n was the ideal woman to everyone around her because she was such a good actress- Nobody could see past that perfect persona.

After she sobered up, she made sure to make up for the times she went to school looking terrible. No time in the world was too much when it came to looking perfect.. right?

Y/n wasted no time picking out the perfect yet effortless outfit. Perfect. It's what it was, to y/n everything; Must. Be. Perfect.

There she stood in front of her mirror; she could spend hours staring at herself, picking apart everything she could've done better. "You try so hard, Y/n. And yet you will never be perfect." That voice- she heard it in the back of her mind.

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