My pencil grinds into the page infront of me as my eyes trace the perfect details of her face. A twist of nauseuous agony knots in my stomach with each of her strides into the classroom. Her dress seems to billow in the non-existant breeze, adding more to her transcending perfection. My eyes pierce into hers, her gaze lingering on the other students, captivated by her presence. I see through her pink lips, curled into a smirk. I see through her rosy cheeks and mesmerizing eyes. I see her for what she truly is. And what she is - I will never be.