Paper-Thin

• Anna Mai, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2014

He was beautiful. Even when he was just standing there, with no thoughts of glancing this way, he was absolutely stunning. To anyone else, he might have been emotionless, weird, or even paper-thin. But that didn't matter at all. Even if he was paper-thin, I love him. I love him for being so attractive, for being so delicate and just the way he’d smile would melt my heart as if it were a chunk of melting ice-cream that had fallen off from a child’s ice-cream cone on a hot summer’s day in Australia.
His fashion sense was unbelievably bewitching. It was different from the usual fashion you would see on a male figure. At times it would be bright like a rare jewel, but at other times it would look dark yet mysterious. It would captivate one’s eyes and pull them in, wanting to know more. I wouldn't be surprised if he was secretly a runway model.
His eyes are like blue diamonds. They’re delicate, ravishing and exquisite, but at the same time they were mystifying. How could one have eyes like that? Just like a Blue Diamond, its existence was questioned.
All in all, he was perfect, a perfect human being. How can a human be so perfect like that?
Slowly I start to question everything. Why are we so different? Why am I not able to be perfect? Am I suitable for him? All the questions begin to overrun my head. My fists clench, my tiny nails embarking visible marks on my palms.
And as reality comes crushing down on me, I realised.
I wasn't perfect, not even close. I wouldn't even be able to come close to him and I never will. No matter how much I’d want it to happen, I can’t. It was impossible. The ocean kept us a part. Even if I tried, even if I swam, I’d never be able to catch up to him. He was too far away from me.
The ocean that kept us a part, they were once a part of me. They were my tears. The tears I spill for him. And so once again today, I cry as I reach out to him, faintly letting my fingers graze against him as he looks in a different direction, smiling. His expression didn't waver and nor did it falter. It wasn't what I expected. He didn't feel real. He felt like paper. I laugh bitterly.
Of course it feels like paper.
It was a poster.