Blue
Um, something random. Which I thought up OMGINTHEMIDDLEOFMATHCLASS! Yesh. So er, something randomish...yeah...I like one-shots. I don't feel compelled update them. Hehe. Because...I don't have to...yeah...
Blue.
It was the color of Violet's life before the fire. She knew that much.
Blue, the color of Briny Beach's crashing waves. Waves that were still the day Mr. Poe told them...
Her room overlooked Briny Beach. Afternoon sunshine poured in through the open window. She could hear the laughs and shouts of beach goers. Waves crashed down onto the beach, coming and going, in and out, their crests painted white as they wiped out surfers left sputtering in their wake.
Blue, the color of the flowers in the garden. Flowers that are no longer there...
Violet's mother called her out to water the flowers. Springing from the earth, green stems leading up to fragile blue petals, soft to the touch. She brushed it with the tip of her finger, then moved her hand lower to pack the cool, damp earth down around it.
Blue, the color of Sunny's room. A room Sunny may be too big for now...
She walked into Sunny's room, waning sunshine striping the pale blue walls. Sunny gargled, and Violet leaned over her crib to sing a lullaby.
Blue, the color of their father's favorite book. A book that might have been important, who knows...
Her father called her to listen to a passage from the book. Violet listened intently, laughing and sighing at all the right parts. The single paragraph alone held an abundance of humor and sadness, and her father enjoyed reading it. Violet asked if maybe he would let her have the book to herself for a bit?
Blue, the color of her favorite dress. One of the only dresses she would wear, now gone...
Klaus told her to get ready. Her parents were to go to an important banquet, and he and Violet were expected to attend, too. Only this one time, her father told them. They would call a relative to watch Sunny. Violet nodded and told him she would be there in a moment. Klaus left, and Violet pulled out the dress, the only dress she didn't mind wearing. It was blue.
Blue, the color of her mother's eyes. Eyes that would never smile or look at Violet again, never laugh with her mother...
As the car rolled away from the Baudelaire home, her mother told Violet stories when she was a girl. Violet enjoyed hearing these stories. She shared a few stories about what had happened at her school today, what she had learned. Her mother laughed when something funny happened, patted Violet's shoulder when something upsetting happened.
No one would notice the car - black, not blue - that was riding behind them.
It's over. I'm not sure if it was easy to understand, but oh well. I sorta like it. So I hope you guys liked it, too. I'm basically writing another...could you call it a companion piece?...thingo, called Red...whatever. Maybe. ANYWAY.
- Emily
