Oh, Rose.

                               If only you knew how perfect you were. With your innocent eyes, and your ignorance of your beauty. Perhaps so broken, so imperfect, that you just were perfect.

                                 Because imperfections are the prettiest part of a soul. And you had so many. And you were so keen on finding them all out and changing them, making them disappear.

                                 Why?

                                     Was it because you wanted to be like her? Like your sister? Perfect Evelyn?

                                   What made you think she was perfect?

                                      Evelyn had imperfections, too. She was selfish and somewhat narcissistic. She would often give her friends more credit than to her own family. Her family, that had been always there for her, people that had been there for her when her friends had given her the cold shoulder. People that would give up their lives for her.

                                   And for you too, of course.

                                                       Why couldn't you see her ugly pieces?

                                              Why did you only see your own?

                                   Maybe people had bullied you into believing that you weren't pretty. Maybe all the times you had gone to a party with your sister right by your side, making comparisons practically impossible to avoid had made you self-conscious of the differences of her out-striking beauty and your own hidden one.

                                                       Evelyn was oblivious to your pain. Perhaps you were too good at hiding it. Or maybe she feigned ignorance to make things easier, to not feel guilty. Because you cannot feel guilty for something you're not responsible from, right?

                                           But was she responsible?

                                              No. And you knew that. And that made things worse. Because you wanted —no, you needed to hate her. You craved for a reason to hate her. Because she was so nice, too nice to you. And that made her so perfect.

                                                Evelyn was perhaps selfish and narcissistic, but if there was something she did right, then, that was being a good sister to you.

                                       You hated yourself even more for it, and idolized her even more, too.

                                        And that was a lot.