The Bright Colours of Misery [COMPLETED]

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃𝚈 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴 -lost and found time-

Time is a beast and time does not heal, it merely makes you forgetful and lets you adapt to situations you never thought you could adapt to. Alfred's death had been easier for Heidi to adapt to than she had thought it would be, since she had already accustomed to his absence almost a whole year before. Although death and absence aren't the same thing, they manifest in similar ways and one brings closure, whereas the other does not. After her father's funeral Heidi felt lighter, like an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders, a weight she never really knew existed. However, when Wilma had to leave and go back to Berlin, despite her many tears and doubtful manners, Heidi felt as if a glass bottle had flipped over her head, and the air she breathed in was the same that she exhaled. She was stuck in her miserable bubble, without anyone to take her out of it, she barely even painted, or spoke. Her last hug with Wilma had lasted an eternity, but not nearly long enough. She had wanted to go with her, truth be told, and leave this house and all its memories behind, but being only 14 she couldn't. She had to stay with her only remaining legal guardian and keep going to school in this small town until she turned eighteen, when would receive an illusion of freedom.

One morning, when my dear person's breaths felt heavy, when she felt trapped to the point where she thought she could almost touch the invisible glass surrounding her, she realised her mother was sitting at her feet, in her bed.

"Good morning, you heavy sleeper." She greeted kindly, which almost sent Heidi flying. She hadn't expected her to be here first thing in the morning. She felt she must have done something wrong. She caught her glasses in one hand clumsily, dragging them right from her bedside table to her face. She practically threw them on.

Trudy chuckled.

"Relax, you're not in trouble." She assured and was then followed by a short silence, where Heidi briefly looked up at the ceiling with closed eyes, exteriorising her relief.

Heidi took a quick look around, her siblings were already gone, she guessed and hoped they were only downstairs, she had grown to be very comforted by their sole presence, especially Frieda's presence, which she still hadn't quite admitted to herself.

"Heidi," Her mother started, shuffling closer to the young girl. Heidi quickly looked down at her, no longer lost in thought.

"I wanted to talk to you about something." She continued, barely able to keep her piercing eyes on her daughter. They wandered around the room like those of a lost deer.

"Something you saw."

Heidi's pupil's widened, there were many things she had seen that she arguably shouldn't have, and many things she had done who fell under the same category, but among all of them, she immediately knew which particular event her mother was referring to, which also confirmed some questions she'd been carrying around for a while.

Had Trudy even seen her that evening? Did she know that Heidi knew?

The red haired girl slowly nodded. "All right," She whispered, with a much calmer and more accepting tone than Trudy had expected.

The older woman fiddled with her hands. I quickly noticed her foot was shaking where it stood on the floor. Heidi also noticed she was nervous but failed to point out the exact details which told her so.

"You saw me kiss her, didn't you?" Trudy eventually asked so quietly Heidi barely heard her. She did hear the word kiss though, which told her nodding was an appropriate response. She thought about that kiss daily.

Trudy took a deep breath. "I'm sorry you had to see that." She said, taking her daughter's hand, as she grasped it, she quickly closed her eyes as if she'd been pinched, or hurt in some way, certain that Heidi would pull away. Trudy was convinced her daughter wouldn't want to even touch her hand. However, what happened was quite the opposite. Heidi took her mother's hand and held it firmly. She was grateful to have seen that kiss, grateful beyond measure. It showed her that at least she wasn't alone. She wasn't alone in loving other women.