Perfect

I'm taking a Public Speaking Class. I had to deliver a Narrative Speech last Saturday. I made up this story. I got a video of my performance. I haven't decided if I'll put it up here.

Perfect

A year ago I moved to a new neighborhood. A week after my move I met Cathy Miller. She was my next-door neighbor and she was perfect. Now she didn’t show it off. She was very humble and modest in a perfect sort of way. But I knew she was perfect and that bothered me. She was married to Paul and they had the perfect marriage. They were so happy together. He had a good job and they didn’t have to worry about money. They had the nicest house on the street. They just had a baby boy and named him Ashton.

In morning I would make my coffee and sit by the window. Every morning, without fail, I would see Cathy on her daily jog pushing little Ashton’s stroller. She was healthy and full of life with a perfect body after giving birth only six months ago. Of course, she was pretty too. No, she wasn’t pretty. She was beautiful. All her features were in the right proportions and her teeth were straight and they were white.

I wanted to hate her so much but she was one of those people that are impossible to hate. She was always smiling with her white teeth and always had something nice to say. She was very friendly and everyone knew her in town. Everyone probably felt the same way I did. Everyone wanted to hate her and they probably did at first, but once she talked, they couldn’t help but like her.

Cathy and I became close friends. We would go everywhere together. I would, once in a while have dinner with her and Paul. Dinner that she made and it was delicious, of course. As I got to know her better I couldn’t find anything wrong in her life. Secretly, I envied her. Here I was in a little rented house with a job I hated, living paycheck to paycheck, no boyfriend and no kids. And my friend Cathy had the perfect life.

One day she let me know her secret. When she turned 15 her parents took her on a vacation to Florida and told her she was adopted. Ever since then she has always wanted to know who her real family was. She would always consider the parents who raised her as her family but she had always that feeling inside that she wanted to meet her biological family. She talked to Paul about it and he told her that she should hire an investigator to see if she could find anything out. The next day she did. She hired Michael Hamilton. He was highly recommended.

Weeks passed and I would get little updates on the case. Nothing significant. But almost every day Michael would call Cathy to tell her what he had found out. One day she got an email from Michael. He is from England. He had a family emergency and had to leave the country but he had made a major breakthrough on her case. He had found out Cathy had a brother. He would mail her a letter with all the information. It was strange that he didn’t call like he did every other day. It was also strange that if he had time to write the email why didn’t he write the information in the email?

Every day Cathy expectantly would go to the mailbox and every day she got junk mail. One afternoon my doorbell rang. I open the door and it was Cathy. She was crying like I had never seen her cry before. She couldn’t speak. She could hardly breath. Even when she cried she was beautiful. I asked her to come in but she couldn't even move. In her hand she had a crumpled piece of paper. She extended her hand and gave it to me. It only had a name. Paul Miller.