Too perfect

BILLIE ALLAN Year 9, Queen’s High School

HER darkened eyes fixated on mine as she stumbled through the blurred portal, misplacing each footstep as she tried to steady herself on the levelled ground.

Holographic freckles embedded

on her hollow cheeks.

Her eyelashes a thick, black,

curtain.

Magenta lips puckered up above

her pointed chin.

Silver hair brushing her face as she lifted up her nimblefingered hand to put it in place behind her gold, studded ears. A bright blue skin coating every inch of her elegant, smoothmoving body. Loose, flattering clothes were draped on her, fashionably styled. Everything seemed so perfect,

too perfect.

She looked like she came right out of a teenager’s dream, all they ever would want to be. A strange and very technical device was placed in her left pocket, the showing metallic surface reflecting off the sun. She looked around in disgust, then gracefully grabbed it out and tapped in a code before pointing it at the tree next to her.

A tree over populated with squirrels and mice, forever growing grey moss.

The bark that was left was

peeling, colourless.

And as I was looking, it transformed — green, luscious leaves, looking good enough to eat.

The bark revived to a chocolate

chestnut brown.

The few critters left on its branches, charming and bright eyed.

My eyes widened while hers relaxed in satisfaction, a slight smirk planted on her face. My heart started beating as she started looking around again, taking in what she saw.

Her arms were extended in front of her, her hands holding the blindingly bright device, threatening to change anything and everything around her. Those dark eyes, fixated on

mine, hypnotising me.

I was transforming.