Paint me a smile
Namine waits, in her white room in the tower with its thousand white steps that leads to nowhere, and watches her white bird sing in its cage.
It is colourless beyond the bleached gold of her hair and the washed blue of her irises and the white blinds her and hurts her eyes. Picking up a crayon, she drags it across her sketchbook and it bleeds crimson onto the page. The colour comforts her and she adds more shades and lines until it forms shapes which tell a story of a different life away from here.
The is Sora and this is her, this is the prince and this is his princess and the little island kingdom with its happily ever after and this is all just a play where she is an actor and a director.
She flings her crayons and puppet strings and they smash against the wall in coloured dust.
At the bottom of the stairs that lead to nowhere, Roxas hears the white bird cry.