midnight

The night came and she was still in front of the mirror, looking at her reflection aimlessly. She sees herself and started to count her flaws;



How unpretty she was,

How unlucky she was,

How she felt unloved not even by her own family,



She hears the voice, the one she always calls the devil, in her head telling her things, things that only hurt her and made her feel small.



A tear fell down her cheek, felt like a hot drop in a cold water. More tears started to fall, knowing that what he says was true.



Midnight has been marked in her memory as the time where she would do the same and each time she would cry, but with each time, she hopes that  she would hear another voice, a voice that would tell her how imperfections can be perfect in a world full of perfectionists.