Not Perfect Enough

Chapter 6

This chapter is dedicated to @prec, my best friend. One of my biggest inspirations. If not for your harsh comments on my writing, I wouldn't have gotten this far. I love you, baby girl. Thank you so very much❤️❤️

~BIG BEN~

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~I'm so useless.~

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I can't believe I'm actually going through with this.

I'm late.

I can't believe I've actually found a way to screw it up before even starting.

I should have expected this of myself.

It's kind of my thing. Screwing things up. Ruining things. Destroying things. It's a trait that doesn't want to ever leave me. I have no idea why.

I don't even bother shaving the shabby beards on my face before I step under the oddly shaped shower head that runs slower than red oil in a bottle. I don't use a soap to bath, 'cos I don't even own one. I just stand under the water naked and hope it washes my dirt away. Hopefully, along with my flaws 'cos I seem to have a lot of those.

Coming out, since I can't go through the tragic stress of brushing my mouth, I gurgle the mouthwash that's sitting on the top of my sink which may probably be expired but I don't actually care.

I come out of the bathroom feeling the exact same way I felt before I went in—tired. I slip on the first pair of pants I see and a stupid tank top. I wear my sneakers that's over three years old but still manages to fit me with space at the toe compartment. I'm not ashamed of having small feet, it's an advantage when you're somewhat broke and can't afford new shoes so you have to make due with the old ones.

I stare at the broken mirror hanging on the side of my empty wall. I look like a drug addict or worse, an alcoholic. Even though I'm the latter.

I don't bother brushing or combing my hair. The day I'll deal with that hot mess might probably be the day that both sides of Ridge town unite, which I don't see happening any time from now. Correction, any time from ever. 'Cos the division is here to stay.

Well not 'here' specifically. 'There' which is not 'here.' I don't even know if 'here' is under any part of Ridge town. Even if it was, it'd probably be the Southern part.

God, how the tables have turned.

I carry my black bag pack that's empty but people would probably think there's something inside since it's the size of Canada. Well, not literally.

I tend to exaggerate a lot and say a lot of sarcastic things.

I walk over to the empty kitchen, I wouldn't call it an actual kitchen because it's just a small corner in my room where two pots, a half open sachet of salt and one pack of Noodles occupy.

I debate making the noodles for breakfast but go against the idea when I think of later tonight. I'll be stranded and hungry. No thanks, I've been there and it's not a fun experience at all.