Violet Eyes

Chapter 2

VIOLET

Today was the same as every other day, Aunt Christa and I did our daily tutoring sessions, Scarlet and Rose haven't changed either. There are times when I wonder why they always treat me this way. I mean you probably know the answer don't you, mom?

I'd like to think you walk around the house here amongst us every day, watching us and shaking your head. Are you proud of us?

Love, Violet

I folded the letter in half, making sure to seal it with a sticker like I always do. I pull the last drawer of my bedside table free to reveal the stacks of letters I write to my mom. I've written to her since I learnt how to write, and I write to her whenever I feel despondent, desolate or just downright doleful.

The letter seemed to fall from my hands and land like an autumn leaf onto the ground, undisturbed, left to delicately do its duty and remain tucked away.

The only image I have of mom is of those I see hanging on our wall or from dad's memory. I never had the privilege of meeting her.

The soft knock on my door still startles me as it is usually quiet in the house, like it was now. When I look up I see my dad, Eugene, in the doorway. He had probably just come back from work. His contagious smile caused one to form on my face.

“Afternoon, my youngest princess,” he says as he walks in, causing me to roll my eyes and chuckle, “What’s that now? Aren’t you my little princess anymore?” he says, kissing the back of my hand.

“I mean… It's not completely wrong…” I begrudgingly say as I take a seat on my bed.

He joins suit and looks at me mischievously, causing me to raise my brow in question. Then he holds out both of his fists to me, “Pick a side, any side. One has a prize, but be careful when choosing the wrong one, I shall not be the only one left empty-handed” I laughed at his weak pun then tapped my finger on my chin, making a dramatic show of thinking long and hard before picking the right side.

“Aaaaaaaand… We have a winner!” He exclaimed, opening his hand to reveal a small box, “Go on, open it, honey”

After looking up at him once more for assurance, I took the box, flipping the lid open to see a small, neatly folded, azure ribbon laying inside. The initials K.V.d.T were embroidered on it, you needed to squint to see them.

“That was your mothers. She wore it on our wedding day. It just so happened to be the something blue” his smile always seemed brighten a bit more when he spoke of mom. His eyes lighting up as if he was talking about a dream. Mom must have been a dream to him. Her with her raven coloured hair, which Rose and I had inherited. Flawless pale skin and full lips. I bet she could sing too and dance. She was probably just the most perfect being.

“I've been meaning to give it to you for some time now, but never go the chance” he made my hair loose from the hair tie, delicately took the ribbon and tied my hair with it. The ribbon was so long, even though at least more than half of it was used to carry my hair. It still hung down to just below my neck.

I walked closer to my reflection in my mirror.

“It's so beautiful, dad…” he came up to me and hugged me.

“I know she would have wanted you to have it, so there you go, kiddo. A memoir from mommy and I” I felt his grin and snickered.

Suddenly he pulled away and looked at me with wide eyes, “Have you been eating? You feel all skin and bones” his brows furrowed together.

I looked down in shame, I haven't been eating. I just can't stomach blood. Especially not directly from a victim. I mean Aunt Christa forces me to at least have some of the stored blood from the fridge. Two packets a day is the most I can get in.

“It's not like I can really gain any fat from drinking only blood, dad” I countered, but he didn't have any of it.

After getting the same monologue as I had gotten from Aunt Christa about proper eating habits he patted my head and greeted, saying he was just stopping by and had to go to work. He was always such a busy man, I mean he was the breadwinner of the family, so I understood. Didn't mean I didn't want him at home more though.

“Good luck” I said getting an exhausted look back with a dramatic sigh that made me laugh.

Dad always knew what to do to lift my spirits. I wish he was around more often. But being a working adult must demand a lot from you.

I look at myself in the mirror again, at my tiny little fangs that are barely even out yet and at my eyes. The ribbon really illuminated them. Seeing the ribbon, I imagine mom standing behind me, arms on my shoulders, gently twirling the ribbon in her finger, but then realise the twirling is just the wind and the weight on my shoulders is this life I have to live.