But every story has a problem. Laria's was her death.
Her life ended a few months ago, but the mystery of how she died still hung over all of the inhabitants of this town where she lived, an unanswered question. Laria had been the girl all the boys wanted and all the girls envied.
Maybe even enough to murder her.
But still, Laria was never the kind of girl to be mean. Sure, she was spoiled by her parents, them being the creators of something to change the entire technology industry, but she was always sweet and nice to everyone.
But that morning, the day of Laria's death, something was off about her. Her bubbliness, the smile that was constantly on her face, it seemed to fade. She didn't even whisper a word, like the happiness inside her soul just vanished like a disappearing act with no finish.
She left all of us wondering what had happened to change her, to make her life end.
I've always been the kind of person who would jump at the chance to do something unexpected: buy something out of style, go on a crazy adventure, or try something new.
But the thing that no one expected the most was my death.
I never even expected myself to go that far, to let myself die by the hand of someone else, or my own. I suppose I was building up a bridge for that subconsciously, with my parents making up their own life for me, sculpting me into their own little perfect princess.
I have a theory that they only had me so they could make the perfect person, with all the fancy clothes and the flawless hair. I bet they never even intended me to want to make my own decisions, to shape my own life instead of becoming their sculpture, their creation, their "perfect little daughter."
Becoming myself was a goal that I intended to reach. At first I tried to alter my wardrobe to my own liking, swapping out frilly, bow-covered blouses for band tees, and ruffled skirts for destroyed jeans and dyed shorts. I attempted to go out into public with my new wardrobe, filled with amazing (in my opinion) clothes. But I as soon as I stepped out of my walk-in closet, I was stopped by my parents, who scolded me in not wearing "appropriate clothes."
But by becoming as unexpected as possible, no one could stop me.
So now I'm free to become me, the true me, in all my unexpected glory.
So here's a thought. Next time you see someone who looks utterly flawless, they might not be so perfect. After all, we're all just actors on a stage, forced to play the parts that society chooses for us without our permission, controlling us like puppets.
So next time they try to control you, to try to shape you into someone you're not, just remember:
Be yourself, and stay strong.