I called her Remi. To me, she was perfect. Remi was confident and graceful. She knew what she was doing.
Remi didn't have a panic attack in public. They didn't laugh at her. They didn't pull her pigtails. Remi didn't have pigtails. Remi was perfect. She didn't feel lonely. Remi didn't break down on the bathroom floor. She didn't hide her troubles. She didn't have any troubles.
Everyone liked her.
Remi wasn't me. I was Demi, only half of what she was. She was better than me. Remi was perfect. I wish I was Remi. I wish Remi existed.