"Perfectionism doesn't make you feel perfect, it makes you feel inadequate." Maria Shriver
The continuous buzzing of my alarm clock from my bedstand disrupted my nerve-calming beauty sleep. It was just 5:30 am and I wasn't super pumped. I hated waking up this early. I reluctantly rolled to the right side of my bed and switched off the alarm. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and reached for my eye contacts from the top drawer of my bedstand. I carefully slipped them into my eyes to avoid spending 30 minutes of my time searching for them if they were to drop to the floor by mistake. I was a pro at his and didn't need a mirror to do this. I had even stopped getting my eyes teary in the process. I slipped on my lavender color fluffy slippers and stretched my hands in a yawn.
I normally didn't wake up this early, but today was different.
I was finally going to return to New York with my mum. Manhattan, the upper east side of New York City.
It's been 3years. Three long years since I moved to London with my mum when she got transferred to work as a manager in one of the branches of the S Magazine she worked for. I had been very eager to flee from Manhattan and all its Social madness and school problems. The promotion and moving to London had been my saving grace.
Just last month, she had been promoted and has been sent back to New York. This time it was a massive promotion as she was to be the head of a new branch of S Magazine in Manhattan.
I was partly excited because I would be seeing my dad. Well, it's been a whole year since he had the time to visit. But at the same time, I was nervous. I was going back. Back to where it all began.
I slid off my bed and walked sluggishly to my massive wardrobe. Last night I had spent it all packing and making sure everything was ready and in the right place. My mom had told me earlier that I didn't need to pack all the stuff that I could just give them away because everything I needed was in our new house.
That was satisfying enough, however, after giving out most of my things I probably wouldn't be in need of, I still had tons of stuff left.
I picked up a small lilac box. It contained pictures of my childhood and early teens. I looked through the pictures. They looked nothing like the present me.
I had transformed from a chubby almost obese young girl to a size six. Now I was a stunning size 4.
It was a long process however I felt more comfortable in my new body.
It felt different.
I received more attention than was necessary. Yeah, most girls would gawk at me when I walked down the streets and most people turned to stare. I received compliments everywhere I went and when I stepped out on the streets people often looked at me as if to ask how I managed to fit into my dresses.
The process hadn't been easy, I had to quit tons of things I liked and picked up new eating habits.
I was on a constant diet.
Looking at the mirror wasn't difficult anymore.
I had grown to love the new Scarlet I had become... Or so I thought.
Going through the pictures brought back ugly memories. Back then at Bestow High School. I had just one friend.
She was the only one who stood by me. She wasn't fat or anything close to the ugly me, in fact, she was beautiful too and could've belonged to the class of pretty girls who worshipped the Elite; rather she chose to be friends with me.
She sat with me during lunch when no one else would and stood up to the bullies, although it was all in vain.
I was the freaking clown. Everyone always made fun of me and I was constantly bullied.
Amongst every one on my bitch list, there was one person who always topped my list and never made an effort to discontinue.
He was the jerkiest jerk you could ever imagine. He dedicated his life to taunting me and creating rhymes about my big body and red hair. He made everyone call me meatball.
Yeah, best description for my fat face and protruding tummy. Yikes.
That made me abstain totally from meatballs. I was scared that if I ate them I would go back to being fat.
I was a sore loser. And having an intelligent brain was an added disadvantage because that made me a complete nerd.
Although I had a natural hatred for Ivan. It wasn't just him that made my days at BHS a living hell.
Ava charlise Townsend.
She was a major bitch. And had taken over the popularity of the school since she beat me to the top by becoming the best student.
She turned the previous BHS queen Sophia and her BFF'S from alphas to her betas. They were her minions and served her like the queen she was to them.
I was slowly recalling memories I had stored away for years. Memories I had taken time to erase during my stay in Putney High school.
No, that scarlet was gone. A long time ago. I had built a new life in Putney and gathered what was remaining of my shattered pride and self-worth.
Four years ago my perfectionist mom decided I had embarrassed her enough. When we moved to London she did everything she could to burn my fat and gain the perfect look she wanted me to have.
I spent my free periods after school at a gym class, my evenings taking private lessons and my weekends were mostly spent at a kind of therapy class for obese people.
I hated all these but I knew I had to do it. It was never the type of life I wanted. I looked like I had jumped out of a movie or a beauty commercial. It wasn't my will but right now it didn't matter because my mom had never been proud of me as she was now.
This Scarlet was a million times different from meatball Scarlet.
I doubted that anyone would recognize me; Well who would? The name Scarlet and my red hair stuck for long so I had dyed my hair and had moved from a redhead to a brunette. Since blonds were always regarded as stereotypical cheerleaders and all that, I wanted to create a New type of perfection.
Brunette was the new blond.
I placed the pictures in the plastic box and packed it into my third bag. I was sure my mom would scream at the sight of my luggage. Well, I didn't actually care.
I did a final check to make sure that nothing was left out. The only things that remained were my hairbrush and makeup kit. I could easily carry those in my huge channel handbag.
The clock chimed. It was already 6. I had to dress up and get ready for our flight which was to leave by 7:55.
I quickly changed into my bathrobe. I needed a long hot bath to calm my nerves and prepare me for this journey. Well didn't my mum say that any bath less than 30 minutes was just a mere rinse?
I smiled and gave my self a mental LOL.
An hour was all it took me to get dressed and ready for breakfast.
I took a last walk around my room. Damn. I was going to miss this place. I laid flat for the last time on my bed hugging my pillow.
"Thank you so much for being there for me". I mumbled as I Patted it back into shape. "I'm sorry for all those tears I spilled on you"
I placed it back on the bed.
"Hopefully your new owner won't be much of a cry baby" I giggled.
Next to the pillow was a big white teddy bear. My dad had sent it to me as an apology for missing my first Christmas in London.
I was beyond sad that I couldn't bring it with me to New York. I had told our housekeeper to package it and give it to her 6 years old daughter who often came over to help clean the house.
"I'll miss u Mr. Sam" I always imagined the teddy as my dad. It kept me going all those times I needed a dad but couldn't get one because of the distance.
I couldn't wait to see my dad. The type of work he did kept him so busy and always on trips.
Hopefully, he would have time for me once I got back to New York.
Moving to London was difficult. But moving back to New York seemed a more daunting task.
I still didn't know if it was necessary. I was already entering my finals. I could finish high school here and then I wouldn't mind having my college in New York.
I mentally slapped myself out of my thoughts. My mom even in a drunk state would never approve.
I was partially ready for BHS and New York as a whole. Well, I looked ready physically but my mind wasn't. I had replayed the reaction of the whole school of my return several times in my head.
I still didn't know what to expect.
My phone rang; it was my mom.
"I'll be down in 5" I knew she was going to babble about how we were going to miss our flight due to my lateness. I ended the call without giving her an opportunity.
I looked at the mirror for the umpteenth time and spritz some perfume on my wrists and behind my ears. I looked good and ready for a flight.
But I didn't feel good enough.
Either way, I was still moving. I grabbed my handbag and made for the living room.
Hello upper east siders, here I come.