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Perfect.
That word rings in my ears and keeps me from sleep. Do I have to be perfect to please? Why does everyone have to be perfect?

I look down at my hands which are small, yet are so very strong. How could these things hold so many people up... yet always let's me down?

People on the streets walk in their new suits, skirts and make up, looking their best and acting perfect.

But wait!

Stop!

There's someone in that crowd walking towards me. They don't look perfect, non shaved, messy hair, old scarf, beat up jacket and finger less gloves. He has two coffees in his hands, he sits next to me, looks me in the eye for a few seconds to show me he means well and I can see that, and hands me the coffee. I haven't had a warm drink ever since they took away my apartment. It's gotten colder, but I've found blankets and an old jacket and more socks. I automatically put the warm drink up to my nose and breath it, letting the smell overwhelm me and it warm my cheeks. Then I take a huge gulp... what a mistake. It burns my throat, I choke and spew the coffee out my nose and end up in a huge coughing fit. He rubs my back until the coughs calm down.

"What's your name?" He asked quietly. I was shocked at first, his voice was so soft so... natural.

"A-a-a-Annabelle. But you can call me Anna if you'd like," I look down at my coffee and smile. I can see his smile out of the corner of my eye, which gives me a strange feeling in my stomach... but the feeling is good. A happy feeling.

"Annabelle, beautiful. It means joy, you know. My is Justin, and it's a pleasure to meet you."

I awake in a room filled with light, your body warm next to me underneath white sheets. No more coffee before bed for me.