Burn In Violet

01: Redhead

Dear diary, my guardian is not so right in the head, she thought with sarcasm. Firstly, that old witch expected me to…

She fell asleep amidst running thoughts.

*

“Mary, please eat before playing,” the mother said.

“But I wanted to try my kite! What if the wind dies?” the girl protested.

“Listen to your mother, Greta,” the father jumped into the conversation.

“But, Papa…”

“We’re a family, Jenny,” the father cut short sternly, yet gently. “Families eat together. Your mother made you sandwiches. You should be thankful.”

“And your father took all the trouble to bring you here when he could have spent away his weekend on the couch watching the Super Ball,” the mother chided, relaxing the tension.

“Oh, shut it, Martha,” the father frowned, but his lips indeliberately formed a faint smile.

The family of three was having a picnic on the crown of a green hillock. The-girl-whose-name-changed-every-time sighed. But then she smiled contentedly. She sat down, picking a sandwich from the basket and admiring the view.

The city was spread out like a model so vast that its edges lay outside the range of vision. Buildings high and low poked out like metallic blades of grass.

She chewed. The sandwich was still warm. She found that olive and scrambled eggs made a weird combination, but not unpleasant. The summer sun felt gentle and the breeze soothed her feelings.

*

“HOLLYYYYY!”

Holly sat up abruptly. The voice woke her up from her dream. Rudely. She was quick to instinctively give the owner a good slap. There was an indignant “Ow!” and then a thud.

“That was rude alright!” Holly and the owner of the voice scolded in unison.

Holly was speaking to a floating head.

It was a girl’s head with short red hair, twinkling black eyes and a childlike expression. Under its chin was a thick woolen scarf held together by a bow-shaped brooch. The two ends of the red scarf dangled behind her like esophagi. Over her head was a thin golden ring that looked as if it was embedded into her skull, not unlike a handle, amidst a large bow ribbon.

“You threw me against the wall!” the head complained. “Do you have any idea how unpleasant it is having a bump on your head while having no hands to massage it?”

“Tamaki…” Holly stifled a yawn, her mind still blurry. “Of all the ways to wake me up!”

“When you’re a floating head, you don’t have much choice,” Tamaki snapped back. “I’ll rather not lick your cheek or bite your ear, no thanks.”

“Ew…” Holly winced. “Oh yeah, that witch took your body with her.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And let me guess, you’re here to scold me for sleeping before finishing this bloody book?”

“Ugh, no curse words please…” Tamaki shook her head profusely, even momentarily closing her eyes. It was a weird gesture for a floating head. “Yes, it’s part of the deal, you know, every time she goes out, you’ll finish two books a day. Other than that, you can do anything you want anytime you want.”