Lily Bennett sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the worn-out pages of her old notebook. Her fingers traced the faded ink of a list she had written years ago—the perfect life list. She'd started it when she was thirteen, just old enough to understand that dreams were meant to be chased, but not old enough to know exactly how to make them come true.
At the top of the list were the essentials:
1. Meet a handsome, rich guy
2. Fall in love
3. Live in a beautiful house with a view of the beach
4. Wear designer clothes
5. Be adored and admired by everyone
6. Be very attractive with flat tummy, nice curves, perfect body weight
7. Be a wealthy, independent and elegant woman
It was simple, really. But it was all Lily had ever wanted.
"One day," she whispered to the empty room, "I'll be more than just... this."
She looked around her small, cluttered room, feeling the weight of the dull, beige walls closing in on her. The world outside her window was so different—bright, shiny, full of possibilities. And yet, every time she stepped into it, she felt small. Ordinary. Nothing like the girls she saw in the glossy magazines her mother left on the kitchen counter, the ones who seemed to have it all: wealth, beauty, and that effortless elegance she craved.
But that life was for someone else. Not her. At least, not yet.
Lily's fingers skimmed the list again. Maybe it wasn't realistic to think she could have the perfect body and just meet the perfect guy by chance. She didn't know any rich people, let alone handsome ones. The closest thing she had to a "wealthy guy" was David Ethan, the son of the local lawyer. But he barely knew she existed, and when he did look at her, it was more out of curiosity than anything else. And even if he did take an interest in her—what then? She wasn't exactly the kind of girl you'd bring home to meet your parents. She was too... normal.
Her gaze landed on the crumpled photograph she'd pinned to her wall—a glossy image of a couple, smiling with perfect teeth, standing in front of a sleek, glass mansion. She didn't know them, but the image was a symbol of everything she wanted
"If I could just get to the age where it all starts," she sighed, leaning back on her bed. "If I could just be... older."
She wasn't sure why, but something told her that once she turned eighteen, her life would change. The world would open up, and she'd finally be able to step into the life she'd imagined. It was just a matter of time, right?
A knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts.
"Hey, Lily, dinner's ready!" It was her mom's voice, warm but distracted
Lily sighed, glancing at the clock. Another night of take-out Chinese food with her mom, discussing how her day had gone, as if there was ever anything interesting to talk about. She quickly shoved the notebook under her pillow before opening the door.
"Coming," she said, forcing a smile.
But as she stepped into the dimly lit hallway, she couldn't shake the feeling that her life was waiting to begin. All she needed was the right moment. The right opportunity.
And she'd find it. She had to
Suddenly, she stopped in the middle of the hallway. A thought struck her like a bolt of lightning. Is age really the problem? When I turn eighteen, will I just magically transform from this awkward, overly tall fat girl into the slim, curvy version of myself that I crave to be? Will I suddenly start acting like the confident, poised woman I've always dreamed of? A thousand things I want... but will becoming eighteen really be the answer? Will it really change anything?
"Lily, where are you? The food is getting cold!" Her mother's voice broke through the haze of her thoughts.
"Coming, Mum," Lily replied, shaking off the doubts as she walked toward the dining area, the weight of those questions still swirling in her mind.