2
Now she was alone in her room, alone with the white walls, the
white bed, the white dresser, the white closet, the white desk,
the white drapes, the white chair and the white table, the white
framed mirror. She was surrounded by white, and that was exactly
the way that she liked it to be. White, white, white! Colors made
her sad, including vibrant ones, such as yellow and orange. On
the other hand, white made her cold. White made her shiver. White
made her bones brittle. This wasn't a problem for her though.
Cold, she thought, is better than warm. Cold, she thought, gives
you space, and a reason to get warm.
Flora sat for awhile longer and waited for her food to come.
She wasn't hungry, but Donna was, so as her new friend she had
ordered a large meal. I wonder, she thought, where Donna gets
her appetite. She pondered on the cold tiles for another five
minutes or so and then she rose.
She walked over to the door and turned to knob steadily as the
eight had done. She pushed the white door forward and emerged
into the ancient hall. She was surrounded by yellow, sunshine
yellow. She moved back inside quite quickly and slammed the door.
She heard it echo in the hall as well as in her room.
Sad, sad, sad. Not sad, not sad, not sad. Colors embraced her
in the hall, remorseless colors. The only reason that they left
her door unlocked was to torture her. They knew that she wouldn't
be able to leave her white walled room and venture out into the
brightly colored ancient hallway. She was no burden to them. They
didn't worry about her, about her escaping the room, about her
going upstairs, about her at all. All these thoughts passed through
her mind and she was lost. All that she could see were the colors.
Everyone loves colors, except me, I am weird, I don't belong.
Thump, thump, thump, they were coming back with her food. She
stood farther back from the door and turned to face the other
direction. She didn't want to see the colors flow in to the room
through the door that would soon be left ajar by the eight as
they came into the room.
She heard them approach; come closer; turn the knob with a steady
hand; open the door. Flora heard them place the trays on the desk;
leave the room; shut the door. She waited six minutes, facing
still in the other direction. She stood with her hands covering
her eyes; sights of orange and yellow still bouncing around in
her mind like balls.
"Oh cut that out, you are such a baby, what harm can yellow do
to you?" Flora didn't answer the voice; she didn't even acknowledge
its presence. She turned around and cautiously approached the
food. She eyed it once, twice, and turned away. She went over
to the white closet.
"You can have it, I am not hungry." She made a gesture to the
tray so that the girl knew what she was talking about.
"How about you eat with me, maybe a piece of chicken or two,
maybe a drink?" Donna doesn't want to seem like a pig thought
Flora, she wants to seem decent, I'll give her that much.
"Alright, I'll bring the food over here and we can eat on the
floor together, is that good?" She walked away from the closet
without confirmation because she knew that the answer was yes.
"Yup, that sounds good!" Flora brought the trays filled with
five plates of chicken, potatoes, salad and creamed corn over
to the white cushion bed.
"I will eat one piece of chicken, and that's all. What do you
like to do for fun?" Flora and Donna engaged in childish dinner
chat and ate more than one piece of chicken.
I am not hungry, I will stop eating now thought Flora, and just
as she put down her fork, so did Donna. "You aren't hungry either
Donna?" asked Flora, "you too want to stop?" She looked at Donna.
She waited for Donna to answer, but she did not. "Are you still
going to talk to me Donna? That is such a pretty name, have I
told you that? Amelia had a pretty name. Do you like chess Donna,
do you want to play?" She waited a moment; waited for Donna to
answer. She did not.
"I am going to bed, I am tired. Are you tired?" Flora took off
her white jeans and white shirt, so did Donna. "You must be tired
too, Amelia always went to bed at the same time as I did, but
that was years ago! She looked like us, except younger. I think
she was five, the same age as me, yes, five is right, and we are
seven!" Flora chatted on, feeling as if she was talking to herself
as opposed to Donna, who wasn't saying a single word.
Flora fell asleep before they came. All eight of them opened
the white door and one picked up the trays. "Do you think that
she still uses the mirror?" Said the one in the blue dress, "do
you think that she has grown out of that?" They all looked at
each other, eyeing the mirror, then conferring in their minds
whether or not they should take the mirror out of the room.
"Maybe, maybe just for one night, to see what happens," suggested
the tall lanky man standing at the back. He pushed through the
other seven and yanked the mirror off the nail. It was a tall
mirror, but it didn't even reflect half of his body.
They all proceeded to the white door. Flora didn't hear them
enter or leave, she was lost in a dream, a dream about her life,
about her friends, about Amelia!
"Donna, are you still here? Did you leave?" She looked about
the room, finding no trace of Donna anywhere. She looked in every
possible hiding place. She didn't find anything. She sat on the
bed. "Please come back, I miss you, I miss your voice, I liked
you, I did like you. You weren't as good as Amelia, she was more
fun, but I still liked you." She hung her head in her lap; she
looked at the floor. She cried.
Flora cried for an hour. When she was through with crying, she
lay down on the floor and she curled up into the fetal position.
She lifted her head slightly off the ground. "Please come back!"
She noticed a piece of black dirt on the white tiles. She perked
up, she sat up, and she began to scream.
"AHHHHHHHHH! They took her, they killed her like they killed
Amelia, bring her back, bring her back! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,
Donna, Amelia, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, bring them back!"
She curled her legs in around her chest. She started to rock back
and forth, back and forth, back and forth! She continued to scream.
She could hear the thumps of steps in the ancient hallway over
top of her screams. She did see the door handle turn, smooth,
steadily. All eight of them entered the room.
"Stop, don't come any further! Stop! Murderers, you are all murderers!
You killed them both, there not here anymore! I want Amelia and
Donna! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Bring them back!"
She screamed in their faces, she screamed louder and louder. She
rocked back and forth on the floor, back and forth, back and forth,
and back and forth.
All eight left the room quickly. They shut the door behind them
and Flora heard a quick sharp turn! They had locked the door behind
them! They had done the same thing when they had killed Amelia
and she had gone into hysterics. They had locked her in, which
only made her worse.
She lifted herself off the icy floor and into the warm bed. She
sobbed on the pillow until she fell asleep. She cooed in her sleep
like a tiny, happy baby. She smiled and laughed. She was happy.
She didn't hear the door unlock and the eight re-enter the white
walled room. The tall, lanky man who was once again standing in
the back, pushed through the crowd and replaced the mirror on
the hook that was hammered into the white closet. They watched
her sleep and smile and coo. "What a pity, what a wasted life,
she'll be a beauty some day, I guess her friends will too." Said
the blue dress woman at the front.
When Flora woke up she was greeted by the voice of Amelia and
Donna. "Good morning, want to play and make noise?" She turned
over and looked at the closet. She saw Amelia, who had grown considerably,
and she saw Donna, who looked the same.
"Oh goody, you are back, both of you." Flora stared into the
mirror and talked for hours, fearing that again they might leave.
Happy, happy, happy. Not happy, not happy, not happy. She couldn't
decide which one it would be. Here, yes, but not entirely.
