Thanks Bonesluver for my first review! Yes, the last victim was Tina. It was quite a hard choice picking who 'Black' was going to be, but eventually there was only one option. Remember, reviews make me write better stuff!

Chapter 2: Purple

Purple. The colour of self-expression, of rebellion and uniqueness. I like to think of it as the colour of spirit.

His spirit's gone. It's floating around like a pretty balloon in the sky. I used to go to the park with Mom and buy pretty purple balloons, and then let them go. She would tell me off and tell me that it would land in the sea and choke a sea turtle. But it was just so pretty…

They won't find him for a while. I hid him. I played hide-and-seek with him. It was fun! I think he won. I don't really mind him winning. Being dead and all, I suppose he doesn't really care.

Tina. Tina. Tina.

I read it in the papers that she was found, stabbed, in her little gothic clothes shop in uptown New York. I was shellshocked. Tina was always…there. She was always a lovely presence, even though she wasn't much of a participant.

She hurt me. But I still miss her. Our whole gang doesn't feel the same without the quiet observer.

I go down to the studio to warm up for the next performance, Tina still on my mind. I have to concentrate. This performance could be make-or-break for the company. But it's impossible. Murdered? Stabbed through the heart? Not possible. No.

I try my hardest to concentrate on the moves. I'm so focussed that I barely notice that I'm completely isolated. I don't hear the doorknob turn.

"Goodbye."

Next thing I know, I'm pinned against the wall with cold metal against my throat. No. No. NO. I don't want to end up like Tina. I have a life to live. I have a family. Please don't take away my life…

"You're definitely purple. Purple is the colour of individuality. You are individual. You never needed anyone. Right?"

I stare at the figure. The figure has medium stature, and the voice is disguised so I can't tell if it's a boy or a girl. I can't see their face, although a single strand of blond hair is visible through the black material. But I can see their eyes. Vivid green and full of hate. I'm so scared that I can't answer the question.

"Wrong. That's your main weakness. You let people into your life. You let in my last victim. She left scars. Didn't she? That's why it's best to stay alone. You're a star in the making-why do you need anyone else anyway?"

The cold hatred is still there, but I can tell that the figure is almost…curious. Their voice has a hint of a childlike curiosity.

"If you didn't have anyone to share your successes with, it wouldn't be worth it."

I say it without even thinking. Fuck. Have I just cost myself my life? Something flashes through the figure's eyes. Is it…sadness? Suddenly the figure is slumped on the floor, and I can see the eyes are filled with tears. I think about running, but the figure still has the knife and is blocking the door.

"Hey…it's OK…I'm sure there is someone out there who cares…you're not alone…"

Shit. SHIT. The figure's getting up. I can see the knife glinting, hungry for my blood.

"Actually, you are absolutely right. Goodbye."

I feel someone grab me from behind and shove me against the mirrors. The figure leaps up and slashes my legs and stomach. I feel the river of blood trickle onto the marble floor and I feel sleepy. I don't want to wake up. Do I have to wake up?

The light's so bright…

They told me that he had to die. I asked why. They told me not to ask questions. Why do I always ask questions? They know best.

Mommy's coming for me. Once everyone's gone, she'll love me. They told me so.

Right?