The Bright Colours of Misery [COMPLETED]

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙾𝚄𝚁 -practically blind-

"Now, now you're not a little thief are you?" The grave intimidating voice of the doctor made a shiver go down Heidi's spine. She wasn't trying to steal, she wasn't a thief.

"Nein." The little girl said in a whisper, looking down at the floor.

The old man slowly nodded. I think he only believed her because a five year old would hardly steal a scalpel when a whole bucket of toys was placed right next to her. Heidi had not noticed it, the toys didn't reflect light and glow nearly as much as the scalpel did.

***

The snow outside lay on the street like a thick white coat, getting bigger by the minute. It had been an hour or two since Heidi had seen it properly. It was dark and cold outside. The orange lights in the street lamps were glowing brighter than ever and the snow was cleaner than before, it was fresh and still appeared to be fluffy. It was quiet, awfully quiet and her mother held her hand firmly as they walked down  Apfelstraße.

Alexander had gone home shortly after the doctor said Heidi was alright. He had to be home before dark. Heidi could not have cared less about his absence, about this boy she had stolen a hat from, as she felt a snowflake fall onto her nose.

"Mama, it's snowing!" She exclaimed happily, sticking her tongue out to catch a few.

Trudy didn't answer, a single tear ran down her cheek. At first she didn't see it, but after a loud silence she saw her mother's expression. Heidi's excitement died down, she felt ashamed. She felt as if she was a burden now.

"I'm sorry, mama." She murmured, looking up at Trudy with a sincere face filled with remorse. Her mother pulled her closer to her.

"Don't be sorry, why on earth would you be sorry?" Trudy asked her, tightening her grip on her daughter and gently brushing her hand over Heidi's little rosy cheek. The little girl's pale blue eyes quickly wandered down to her wet shoes, she sniffled a bit, ashamed of herself.

"For being blind." She answered in a low tone. Trudy stopped walking and quickly crouched down in front of her daughter, gripping her tiny cold hands as firmly as it was humanly possible.

"Don't say that. You aren't blind and it's not your fault." Her mother told her with a firm tone. I agreed with Trudy, it was not Heidi's fault. But sadly, even if Trudy and I told her the absolute truth, Heidi didn't believe us.

In her mind it was her fault. Silence filled the street once more.

"We'll get you glasses before you start school, somehow."

Trudy finally continued. Heidi looked up at her.

"What happens if we can't get any?" She asked.

"We will get you glasses Heidi."

"But what if you can't, mama!" The young girl insisted. Trudy sighed and brushed a ginger curl out of Heidi's face.

"I will talk to the teacher, you could still go." She said, whether she was trying to reassure herself or Heidi I will never know.

Anyhow Heidi was not reassured, she wasn't a fool. She couldn't even attempt to read with her eyesight.

When they came home Heidi immediately ran upstairs, Trudy looked at her with pure worry. What if she missed a step and tripped? Nothing happened, Heidi was getting used to her deteriorating sight, it had been going on for more than a year after all.

She ran into the room she shared with Frieda and Gisela (her younger sister) in the attic of the house. Gisela sat on her bed, studying a leaf she had picked up during autumn. The two year old didn't pay much attention to her sister being completely captured by this red piece of dead matter. She loved nature and anything close to flowers and plants.

Heidi hid behind her bed in the corner, her knees pressed against her chest as she began crying. This was the moment she realised how bad it was, the sudden jolt of truth that she did need something for her eyes and that they wouldn't get better on their own.

Her parents would hate her. They could barely feed them all and now had to buy some stupid glasses for her dumb eyes.

That was basically what she thought. I tried to change her perspective on it, but it was of no use.

She hated being a burden and started crying very silently. She had always been pretty quiet.

She also really wanted to go to school and now she convinced herself she couldn't.

Why did she have to go out today? Why did she have to do it when she knew her eyes had gotten worse? Why was she so stupid?

I tried to bring her comfort, whispering to her that it was okay, that she did absolutely nothing wrong and that she would eventually get glasses and go school, but I believe the little human decided to block me out that day. (As many days before that)

Gisela eventually exited the bedroom for a reason Heidi didn't care to know and left behind her an immense silence. The wood of the slanted roof creaked and the wind whistled outside.

Heidi felt comfort in this silence. Those very mild sounds made it peaceful. She opened her eyes, they were even more blurred than usual with all her wet tears but she looked around anyway, taking in her room focusing on colours.

The three beds of the room were placed in their own little corners and were all quite thin and bony looking.

They only had one flat pillow each, one light green, that was Heidi's, one bright pink which belonged to little three year old Gisela, it was her absolute favourite colour, then there was Frieda's bed with a bright blue pillow.

Frieda's pillow was nicer, but Heidi thought at that moment that maybe she deserved the worst pillow. As you know, Heidi had always felt inferior to Frieda and it wasn't getting better. She envied her twin immensely. Oh how jealousy can be destructive.

"Heidi?"

The familiar warm voice and bubbly tone made Heidi look up at her sister standing in the doorway. Now 15 years old Wilma had many chores to do and she often took care of Manfred, the newest addition to the family who was born in April 1931. Wilma's blond hair was escaping both her bun and hair pins and she gazed at Heidi sadly.

As I have implied before Wilma loved Heidi more than anything and knowing she had been hiding something like this must have hurt Wilma just a bit.

She sat down next to her younger sister and pulled her into a hug, a long warm hug that Heidi gladly leaned into.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked in a whisper.

Heidi said nothing, she felt ashamed, she had promised to tell her everything, but she didn't want to worry her, she thought her sight would get better, She hoped it would get better. "I don't know." The girl answered almost sincerely. Wilma nodded, she didn't want her to feel guilty for not telling her.

"Do you think I will go to school Wilma?" Heidi asked in an almost incomprehensible whisper.

"You will."

"But I can't possibly learn to read if everything is just a dark blue blur on some beige paper!" Heidi exclaimed, almost getting angry. Why was everyone being so optimistic? The doctor had said it would cost a lot and her family could barely feed everyone properly, she wouldn't get those damn glasses.

Wilma was first taken aback and to be honest so was I. Why do you know so much, child? Aren't you supposed to be seven? That's what I wanted to say, but apparently Wilma was taken aback by something else.

"dark blue blur on some beige paper?" She repeated. Heidi nodded.

Just like I had before, Wilma was beginning to notice how much detail and attention her sister paid to colours.

"Let me show you something." Wilma said, taking her sister by the hand and leading her into the little room. That day she showed her a few things she had gotten years ago, when her family wasn't as poor as they were now. (because they didn't have as many mouths to feed)

A full watercolour palette with a few paintbrushes was presented to Heidi, and that my friends is how an artist is born.