The place reeked of perfumes and makeup. My strained body sat on a cozy bed as my birthday gift strolled slowly towards me. My dimwitted friends had dragged me down the street to claim my prize. Bangles clinked, her stench soared and she smiled at me with that fake glossy face. She lauded her teenage body by waving her bright drapes at me. I felt nauseous. In an inquiring tone, she asked "Didn't you like me? What do I lack in comparison with the other girls?" I directed her to the bathroom, while I pushed open the windows when all the fragrance dismantled my senses. Later, she grabbed a chair and positioned herself near the mirror to begin her artistry against reality. "What do I lack, huh?" she asked again looking away from me. I pointed at her mirror reflection that revealed a hesitant being trying to crouch in coyness. "You lack that, that shyness, one of the pivotal characteristics of girls that makes them beautiful." She gazed down, and told me her life's story. After an outpour of tears for a few minutes, I lifted her chin up and stared at those hopeful beady eyes, those dreamy eyes, those detrimental eyes that gleamed with morality and love for the first time in her life.
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