Color-Blind

by Daya Daniels

  Running a hand through my hair that desperately needed to be cut, I scanned the large bedroom. I rarely slept in here, using the sofa in the den usually for my bed or the chair in my office. The room had a spectacular view of the beach in the distance and the sunrise and sunsets that came each day. Shifting my gaze, I peered at Violet. Her dark hair is fanned out against the white linens. She looked like an angel, which was such a contradiction to the conflicted soul which I knew lurked deep within her. The monster and the angel all rolled into one. The woman who at certain times seemed like she was in dire need of a priest who could perform something straight out of the Exorcism on her.

  She stirred a little and then opened her eyes that were filled with sleep and confusion. It dawned on me for a moment, that she probably hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep here.

  I placed a cup of coffee next to her on the nightstand, inhaling the freshly roasted aroma that filled the bedroom.

  “Let’s go for a walk.” I suggested as she moved to sit up.

  Placing the coffee in her hands, she took a long sniff of it, before putting her lips to the rim of the mug. Standing, I headed to the bathroom.

  “I’m sure you can find your way around in here.” I said, placing a new toothbrush in her hand when I returned and removed the empty mug from her hands.

  “Where are we going?” She asked.

  “To the beach. I run there every morning but today, I’ll walk.”

  A small smile spread across her face that warmed me. “Okay.” She said quietly.

  Violet

  I could feel it. His gaze was on me turning my cheeks red despite the cool air that whipped around us. The relentless sound of the ocean crashing against the shoreline, the pure scent of the salty air around us, the song of the crying seagulls and the whistle of the breeze that flowed over us was calming. This place was heaven, like a peace I’d never known and now desperately wanted to keep.

  My hand remained nestled in Elijah’s and my feet shuffled through the sand, it’s coolness brushing over my toes. Stopping, I took off my flip flops only to feel them plucked from my hands by him. We found a spot and sat, not saying much for a while.

  I’d slept over last night. I’d slept overnight with a man... in a bed. I knew it sounded so simple but it wasn’t. Something about it made me feel stripped, pried open, exposed to him, allowing some of my secrets to fall out so he could judge them.

  I’d slept comfortably, wrapped up in his arms and pressed against his body surrounded by the softest freshly-laundered sheets, which had the lingering scent of Gain on them. Before falling off, I shut my eyes listening to his breathing and inhaled everything that surrounded me. His place felt different from my loft. It seemed somehow lived in and cozy, warm and filled with love. Different.

  Despite all the strength that this man exuded, there was something about the way he held me last night, pulling me deeper and deeper into the crook of his hard body, his nose settling comfortably at my ear, as if he was trying to breathe me in. I wouldn’t admit to him but his hold made me feel cherished, like he thought I was breakable and had vowed to protect me, guard me as if I were prone to damage.

  “You wake up to this every single day?” I pointed out, jolting myself out of my own thoughts.

  “Yeah. The sun’s about to rise in a few minutes.”

  “I wish I could see it.” I said grimacing. “I wish I could see a lot of things.”

  It was the most honest thing I’d told myself all year.

  “Like what?”

  “Sunsets, sunrises.” I giggled. “Flowers. My dad’s face. Your face. My own face!”

  He only grunted, pulling me into the side of him.

  “I wish I could drive. I wish I could...I don’t know.” I murmured. “I wish for a lot of things. I felt his eyes on me, saying those last few words. “I guess I’ve just accepted that they won’t ever happen.”

  “It makes you bitter, if you think that way Violet.”

  I huffed. “I guess. They think they can give me my sight back.”

  “Really?” He asked.

  “Yeah but there are downsides of course, like what if doesn’t work then I’m deformed for the rest of my life.” I chuckled.

  “And you’re not willing to take the risk?”

  “I guess I’m not. If I’m as pretty as they say, maybe it’s all I have to hang on to. I don’t want that to go as well.”

  “Cautious?” He groaned. “For someone who takes a lot of risks Violet, that surprises me. You seem like you just like to suffer.”

  “What?” I asked, feeling my temperature sky rocket at his statement.

  What does he know about suffering?

  “You like to suffer Violet, just so you have something to complain about. Some reason to be angry with the entire world.

  “You’re the poster child for masochism.”

  I shot up to my feet, feeling his presence surrounding me as he stood at the same time. For a moment, I only stood there, unsure of what to say. Completely-fucking-dumbfounded.

  “Why would you say that?” I demanded to know.

  “Because, Violet. Someone is telling you that they can change your life.”

  He clutched my forearms with his warm hands, edging closer to me. “So that you can do everything you’ve always wanted and yet you refuse.”

  I remained silent.

  “You like to suffer. I think you also believe that all the unfortunate circumstances in your life, justify the shitty way you treat people sometimes but guess what, Violet? It doesn’t. Shit happens to all of us!”

  Snuggling deeper into my hoodie, I spun away from him wanting to punch something. He stepped closer, putting his chest to my back, speaking directly into my ear.

  “What happened with your mother, exactly?”

  “None of your fucking business.” I deadpanned, stomping off in the other direction. Shock waves travelled through the soles of my feet from the impact they made against the hard sand. I had no clue where I was headed. I only knew it was clear, free of debris and anything else I could fuck myself up from. The wind whipped around me, forcing my hair to cover my face and into my mouth. Angrily, I cleared it away.

  Elijah laughed out loud but I failed to see what was so funny. “I’ll take you home since you want to act like a five-year old!” He called out.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Elijah

  I stared at the cover of the book in front of me, admiring the green letters over the purple background. A picture of two children in the front seat of a blue car, flying through the sky, with a large white bird flying behind them adorned the front cover. I held in my hands, a copy of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. I’d finally made it to the third book in the series.

  A few knocks on the door jerked my eyes up and they landed on Asher’s, who was standing just outside of my kitchen.

  “Hey man.” He greeted, pulling it open.

  “Hey.”

  His eyes dropped to the book, I’d just held in my hand.

  “The third one, huh? You’re moving through them at lightning speed.” He laughed.

  “They’re good actually.”

  He eyed me curiously as I cleared away my plate from the table and headed towards the sink. After two glances over my shoulder, he still stood rocking from side to side nervously wringing his hands.

  “I came by here yesterday.” He said hesitantly.

  “Oh.” I answered still with my back to him, while I rinsed the plate off with soap and water.

  “Yeah.”

  I bobbed my head a few times waiting for him to speak.

  He snickered. “Whoever she was, you were surely putting a pounding on her.” A soft laugh left him, while my jaw tightened.

  “Oh that.”

  “I could hear her as soon as hit the bottom of the steps to the deck.” He laughed. “Oh Elijah. Oh, fuck me! Do it harder! Oh, my God!” He mimicked in a sing-song voice.

  “Fuck off.”


  He belted out a laugh, holding his stomach. “You must’ve sent her home limping and...in tears.”

  I smiled. “Did you come here for any particular purpose this morning?” I quipped, attempting to immediately end the conversation.

  “Yeah just came to check on you, that’s all.”

  I kept his gaze but didn’t respond.

  He slipped his hands in his pockets and shifted his feet a few times, keeping his head low. “I was just looking at the calendar today is all.”

  I only grunted in response. “Please you don’t have to hover. I’m a grown man.”

  He sighed. “This isn’t about your age, Elijah. You know that.”

  I remained silent while Asher tapped his keys against the granite counter top.

  “It’s good you’re bringing company here now. Who is she?”

  I met his narrowed eyes across the room. “A friend of mine.

  “Oh, okay good. Nice.” He said giving me a few nods.

  He held up a cordless drill in his hand, he’d snatched from the surface of the counter. “Do you mind if I borrow this?”

  “Na, go ahead.”

  “You’re working later?”

  “Yeah, late tonight and I have a long list of patients for today.”

  “Okay.” His eyes narrowed, while he pushed off the counter to stand straight. His posture uncertain and unsure, readying to push and pry.

  “Asher, I’m fine.” I held a hand up.

  “Okay, man yeah.”

  He ambled across the room, heading for the door. “If you need to you can call me anytime.” He pushed it open and stepped outside.

  I growled when it completely shut and headed over to the screen to look outside, breathing in the crisp air. It was a chilly day and the sky was grey. Haystack Rock stood in the distance, in all of its formidable beauty while seagulls circled the base of it. The waves washed in on the beach softly in the distance. Placing my hand on the frame of the door, I stood frozen and simply stared for a while.

  That same beach was where just two years ago, we used to play Frisbee, kick around soccer balls and fly kites. The same red and orange winged-box kite sat in the corner of the kitchen, unused since then.

  I’d make it through today, I always did. I had to.

  Shaking the thoughts away, I shut the door. I moved to pour myself another coffee. After I stirred the sugar in, I headed back down the hallway towards my office. Making it nearly to the end, I turned back, letting my eyes linger on the blue door for a moment. Hesitantly, I touched the handle then twisted, allowing the empty bedroom to come into full view.

  The air felt thick with his presence even though there was no one here now. Everything sat just as he left it. The microscope sat on his corner desk, with the dried carnation leaf underneath it, that he was last examining. His bed was still unmade and was covered by a checkered blue and grey comforter. The closet door remained open where all his clothes still hung. His shoes were on the floor. A white karate gi hung by a hanger. He’d won a silver medal the last time he wore it for the junior championships. Stepping towards the closet, I ran my hands over the white material, staring at the dust that was left on my fingers when I pulled away.

  This room was my own personal fucking prison.

  Taking a deep breath, I backed out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind me, shutting out the memories that threatened to reach up and strangle me, shutting out the pain that often felt like it wrapped around my heart and squeezed the shit out of it – forcing it to stop beating. Shut it all out.

  When I reached my office, I plopped down in my chair and began to read the Harry Potter book but I was unable to focus on the words, spread out on the pages. I had a few calls to make this morning. As much as I tried to force the thoughts away, thoughts of Violet kept creeping into my brain, her soft voice caressing my ears.

  I missed her.

  Violet

  “Congratulations, Violet.” A woman said touching me softly on the arm. “These are amazing pieces.”

  “Thanks.” I said dryly, wondering how much longer at had to remain at this shin dig. This was the eighteenth show I had put on. I didn’t entirely understand why the fuck I had to be present.

  “You know you really scared Brooke the other day when you just left like that.” Kyle’s voice assaulted my ears. “Just jumping into a cab and heading out to Cannon Beach isn’t exactly the best idea you’ve had all year.”

  Wincing at the sound of his annoying voice, I took a deep breath. He offered me his arm. Reluctantly, I hooked my arm in his, striding along next to him as we walked around the gallery space.

  “I might be blind Kyle but I’m a big girl.”

  “Brooke cares about you. She spends so much time worrying about you that she barely takes care of herself. You must care about that.”

  “Of course, I do.”

  “Well think about your actions, Violet. Brooke has enough on her plate.”

  “What can I do to make things better, Kyle?” Sure he wasn’t the wiser to my sarcasm. “Because the last time I checked you don’t make Brooke’s life easy either. You’ve been together for what? Ten fucking years. When are you going to be a man and pop the question? Instead of letting Brooke hold on the shreds of what you both call a relationship, while you get pussy whenever you need it.”

  He yanked his arm away from mine with harsh precision and disappeared.

  “Fucker.” I muttered under my breath.

  “Sweet pea.” A heavy arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me into his big body for a hug, allowing me to breath in the Old Spice that dusted his skin.

  “Daddy, how are you? Thank you for coming.”

  “There’s so many people here, Violet.” He pointed out with a smile in his deep voice.

  “I know. I hope they don’t expect me to make a speech.”

  “Violet.”

  “Dad, I’m tired of these things. I don’t see why I can’t just create the work and let it show itself.” I whined.

  I had one more interview to finish before the end of the night and then I was leaving.

  “Violet.”

  “Fiona.” I greeted without emotion or a smile.

  “We’re going to schmooze for a little while before heading out, get some champagne and all that fun stuff.” James said releasing me from his hold, placing a kiss on my cheek.

  “Okay, Dad.”

  Slumping against the wall, I snatched up a glass of champagne that was offered to me. I could still feel James lingering near me. “Dad, I’m fine. Please go. Brooke will be back any minute.”

  “Does she know where you are?”

  “Of course, Dad. When doesn’t she?” I laughed, taking a long sip of the bubbly liquid in my hands.

  A swallowed down a loud laugh. All I could think about was Elijah and when I did, I found myself either becoming incredibly angry or a cheesy smile spread across my face, sometimes both at the same time.

  It hadn’t escaped me that I’d all but bulldozed myself into his life – not that I cared.

  The way he’d fucked me, bringing me both pain and pleasure at the same time, left some sort of imprint on my brain. A craving. A desire to have more with him but more of what? He seemed as starved for real affection as I was. His lips on mine, seeking my tongue, invading my mouth and my thoughts. It was aggressive and passionate and fucking incredible. It was as if I lived for his affection – for his attention – for a moment of his hands on me.

  And when did I want that?

  I fucked. I didn’t do hugs and kisses and cuddling but with this man, it seemed to be all I wanted.

  We fucked skin to skin, his presence around me large and thick, consuming my mind and body – somehow making me his. I was vulnerable and exposed and for a moment, the second he pulled out of me, I wanted to put on my clothes and bolt for the door.

  I was so fucked up! And I knew it.

  I drained the champagne flute in my hand, dropping it by my side with an exhausted breath. I didn
’t feel like this.

  The sound of distant chatter and tittering filled my head. People came to my showings and stayed for hours, talking about this and that – pointing out the complexities of my work. Asking me all sorts of dumb questions, like why did you choose this technique? Where do you get your inspiration? Why do you enjoy painting? Who are your favorite artists?

  Jesus. Christ.

  I didn’t have inspiration and the art I created had nothing to do with me. I was a different person when I painted, a living persona who packed up and hid in the closet once the painting was done. I couldn’t answer all the mindless questions they asked me.

  I couldn’t wait for this night to be over. A few more seconds passed. Canting forward, I inhaled and there it was – CK-One.

  “Violet.”

  “Jared.”

  “What are you doing here?” I questioned accusatorily.

  Jared didn’t buy my work. He only benefitted from it. His presence here was baffling, not to mention annoying and made me have murderous thoughts involving champagne and a paintbrush.

  “Oh, we just came to see your work.” A dainty little voice answered me.

  We?

  Pushing away from the wall and standing straighter, I breathed in again, clenching my fists when I inhaled the fruity scent of strawberries that lingered on Betty Boop, who I estimated stood not less than a foot away from me.

  This was the woman that Jared had been fucking. Did he really bring this bitch here?

  “If I wasn’t mistaken Jared, I’d say you brought this bimbo here on purpose.” I tutted.

  “Who are you calling a bimbo, bitch.” Betty Boop screeched.

  I reached out in front of me, grabbing a fistful of long dry hair and yanked the woman down to the hard floor, landing a few punches to her face.

  Glass broke. Liquid slicked the floors. People screamed. Heels clattered against the hardwood floors. The woman shrieked, digging into my forearms with her fingernails.