O N E

She was pretty, black long hair – the only feature she was proud off. But she wasn't the prettiest.

Her mind screamed at her conscious of her flaws... constantly reminding her of every little bad detail. Her will was not strong enough to ignore, she was not all strong. It hurt to believe the voices, it was internal torture to her. It killed her slowly – she never realises this.

Truth be told, she was not the prettiest. The fact never settled comfortably within her.  There were far more 'ugly' people than her anyway. She hasn't walked the earth... But it was a thing of the mind. Things of the mind aren't explainable to common persons, because even of they understand, they don't understand.

Slumping down her lush bed made with light blue bed cover and eleven pillows of the different shades of purple, she sighed and gazed up her ceiling. The artificial starts pinned on it, around a rectangular mirror almost the same size of her bed, each with a dream of a seven year old girl.

She straightened her body and pushed out her chest slightly. The voices fizzled inside her head, clearly invited by herself unconsciously.

Her bust was too large for her as compared to her ass, a '9' shape. She wanted more of an '8' figure, an hour glass figure. A tiny waist only seen in cartoon characters.

Picking the small mirror laying on her side, she examined her face. The pimples were there, not one or two but uncountable. So painfully clear now that she had washed her face and had no make up on.

Mia angrily threw the mirror across the other side of the room, an act that left her a little breathless. The hand mirror with wood edges survived the fall, saved by a plush soft, purple carpet.

It was either purple or mirrors in this room, looks like Mia couldn't get enough of both.

She flipped to the wall and pouted, immediately frowning at the image. Pouting was supposed to be cute, it made her look like an angry animal. She made a small smile and frowned once more.

"Not perfect."She whispered.

She tried smiling once more,this time biting the inner ends of her mouth to make her lower lip look plump.

"Better."

Her iPhone coater in a glittery purple case gave a small chime. It was actually orchid purple, not a plain purple case.

She jumped up from the bed, excitement bubbling in her veins and walked infront of the closet mirror with her phone.

Her nails were well done, in a fancy way, the colour being eggplant purple. She carefully positioned them around the icon ready for her daily dose of snaps.

This is to be the twentieth beauty app she would be installing, and probably deleting later when it lacked the desired effect to her eyes.

Only about thirteen beauty apps survived. Plus three different body shaping apps.

She took a mirror selfie, mirror selfies, sixty one to be exact. Seating down on her white beanbag facing the window as she scrolled through the images.

The wall with the window was also the only one lacking a giant mirror on it's surface.

It actually looked fancy, mirrors here and there... But hers was an obsession... It went past normal to abnormal.

She had a mirror app on her phone. One in her bag. The inside of her closet. Ceiling. Walls. You can't blame a girl in need of constant approval, which she generally lacks.

Mia picked four photos out of the many and deleted the rest. She proceeded to use the new downloaded apps. This takes her about an hour.

•|•

Mrs.Anna Groscow was a rich successful woman. Really beautiful and charming too, leaving to wonder where she got Mia. Everyone would ask, and she was secretly carrying out an investigation to find out what really happened during her labour  delivery.

She barely associated with her daughter, leaving her to the care of nannies and money. There was no reason such as: 'She had no time.' Good thing it came in handy.

Birthday. Money.

Christmas. Money.

School meeting. Money.

Mrs.Groscow slumped on the leather seat and threw her handbag down, kicking her heels off and undoing her bra. Her eyes fluttered close for a brief moment as she sank into the couch.

"Grace!"She shouted lazily  and a maid came rushing in.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Get me a drink."

Grace nodded and walked to the glass table at the side of the living room. There was an alcohol cabinet beside it and it was always white wine Wednesdays, so she poured her a glass and placed three ice cubes.

Always three.

"Is my husband home?"She asked Grace sipping her wine.

"No ma'am."

"What about the girl?" She proceeded to ask.

"She is up in her room."

"She missed school again?"

"Yes miss." Grace did not like telling on Mia. She sympathised with her. After all everyone found her quite a sore thumb.

Having a mother as beautiful as that, ending up that way.

"Go get her."

"Excuse me."Grace mumbled politely before bowing away. She walked up the clean marble staircase to the first floor, the last door to the right. She gave the door a slight knock waiting for a response.

"Miss Mia, are you there?"

"Whaaat?" Mia voiced sighing. She rubbed the back of her neck fondly to ease the pain that came up with the strainous activity of slouching on the same position.

"Your mother asks to see you miss."

"Tell her am not coming."

"Well... I don't know miss." She replied uncertainty laced in her voice.

"Tell her Royal Highness that I'll be there when I feel like it."

"You shouldn't talk to your mother that way." Grace found herself commenting before coughing. "Just see what she needs."

"Alright am coming!" She huffed  uploading her newly edited photo in her social media accounts before standing up from her earlier slouched position.

Now, all she thought about was if she would get as much likes as Jana Tetrazzini.