Hands. Hands were her favorite part of life. But maybe 'hands' is too general; it should be 'his hands.' Of course his, his were the pair that would trail over her face with such grace, with amazing affection. He handled her with such delicacy. When he was not around, some would say it was *too* delicate, *too* adoring. But they could only say that when he, no they, were not around. For when they were together, you could see the pure love for her in his eyes. How could they ever say it was tainted, wrong?
He realized he should not treat her this way, her sisters were already neglected enough. But as she grew, she looked so similar, so alike. He felt pain everyday he saw her, but it was washed away as her sweet, young voice filled his head. His other daughter's voices were spoken, he didn't hear them. He patted them all on the head, giving a extra pat to her's, and walked down to his laboratory.
He gripped a normally turned-down picture off his desk, placing it to his heart. It was the last thing that he had of the one who she resembles. He trembled as he lifted the picture out of the frame. A small note scribbled on the back of the photo sent him into a silent fit of tears.
To John,
Our first picture together!
Xoxo.
Brenda
The picture had an awkward looking Professor, around his early twenties. The boy paled, in his eyes, even farther, thanks to the girl next to him. Long red hair pooled around her, a pink clip holding many strands behind her ear. Her violet eyes were downward, looking to a book in interest, smile playing at her lips. She was ignoring the camera that the young professor had held out in front of both of their faces. John had taken the picture anyway.
Brenda. His sweet, sweet Brenda.
After she was gone, the Professor made the girls to fill the empty hole in his soul. Why had his smart little daughter turned out just like her? As she grew older, her cheek bones became more prominent, her face slimmed out, her lips became full and her skin stayed pale, Just like Brenda.
Blossom is smart. Brenda was smart. He had met her in his college after all. But maybe being smart wasn't a good thing, that's why she left. She left to go study in Africa, effectively ending it with him. How that had hurt. How it hurts.
But he has Blossom.
He repeats that to himself again. He does have her. He loves Blossom, she's his daughter. She is scientific, creative and a good leader. An amazing little girl. Maybe her personality isn't like Brenda's. He doesn't know her well enough to compare.
Maybe he can change that.