Chapter 5

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*                                     Hello there! Thank you for reading this! I would just like to say that pointing out typos would be greatly appreciated! Grammar nazis are very much welcome.  I'll let you start the chapter now :P  thanks again !                                                       *





It was a grey day. The air was cold and dry. She sank her hands deeper into her hoodie pockets as her luggage was being carried to the car. Her black hoodie was a present she had received from Helga when she was thirteen.

It was an awful time, she was upset, she was crying and nothing would calm her down. So Helga, like the caring motherly figure she thought she was and that she consequently truly became, went out to see if she could find something that could potentially cheer her up.

What she ended up buying was a black hoodie from a thrift shop. It cost her two dollars and while she knew that a second-hand hoodie wasn't a fitting present for the daughter of a rich and sophisticated business man, it looked very similar to a hoodie Violet's mother wore in a photograph Violet kept in her room.

"Violet!" called Helga when she had returned from her shopping trip. "Violet, come down dear, I have something for you."

The teary-eyed thirteen-year old walked slowly and melancholically down the stairs. She sat down on the flowery living-room couch with her head down. Helga took a seat beside her.

"Are you gonna tell me what this is all about?"

"It's nothing." She sniffled.

"Oh it's not nothing. You've been crying your eyes out all day. Did something happen at school?"

"No. Nothing ever happens at school."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, nobody likes me and nobody likes spending time with me. So nothing happens." She tried to contain it, but dew drops rolled softly down her rosy cheeks.

"But that can't be true. A girl as kind and smart as you, they're probably fighting over who gets to be you friend."

"No they don't. Nobody likes me, nobody ever talks to me unless they need help with their homework, or they need to borrow a pencil or they ran out of tissues. Maybe if I was pretty like Jessica they'd like me but daddy said I wasn't allowed to dye my hair."

"What color did you want to dye your hair?"

"Blond."

"Is Jessica blonde?"

Violet nodded. Helga let out a suppressed breath.

"And if I wore contacts, I could have blue eyes like hers too. But daddy said no to that too."

"Your daddy is a smart man. Do you know what dye and contacts will do to your hair and eyes? You're too young for this nonsense!"

"I just want to be liked. If I was pretty, everyone would like me."

"Sweetheart, you're beautiful just the way you are. And yes, Jessica is also beautiful, but just because she is, doesn't mean that you're not. So you don't have blue eyes and you don't have blond hair, so fucking what? That doesn't make you any less beautiful! It just makes you a different kind of beautiful!"

"Auntie Helga don't swear!"

"Ok darling." laughed Helga. "Think of it this way: Let's say that Jessica was a rose, you know like the ones I planted last year in the garden?"

"They were really pretty!"

"Yes they were. Tomorrow, I'm going to start planting geraniums."

"Those are pretty too!"

"Yes they are. Would you try to compare a geranium to a rose?"

"No, they're different kinds of flowers."

"Exactly, and they're both beautiful."

"I'm just a different kind of flower."

"Precisely."

"Am I a geranium?"

"Well now that I think about it, I picture you more of a daisy than a geranium."

"I love daisies!"

"Me too! Maybe I'll plant some sometime."

"Why don't daisies have friends, Auntie Helga?"

"Now who said that? The world is filled with rainbows of different tastes and preferences. Right now, you're surrounded by people who prefer roses but on day, inevitably, you'll meet people that much prefer daisies and they'll love you without you having to dye your petals red. I know it sounds cliché but being yourself is really the only way to make friends."

"Thanks Auntie Helga. I'm still kinda sad though."

"I know sweetie, these feelings won't just go away, but you'll get over them. Here's something to help with that."

She hands her a paper bag.

"A hoodie? Oh my god it's just like mom's!"

"Yes darling, just like your mom's. Try it on."

It fit perfectly.

"You're sad, black is a sad color. It reflects your sadness because it's okay to be sad. But, it's also a warm and soft piece of clothing, sort of like a hug. I want you to wear this when you're sad." She pulls Violet towards her giving her a long, much needed, motherly hug. "And I want you to remember my hugs when the fabric embraces you. I want it to remind you that you're not alone, that you are loved and that both I and your mother will always be with you."

"Thank you Auntie!"

Violet flung herself at Helga receiving a sequel to the previous hug.

"Auntie Helga?"

"Yes darling?"

"What are your favorite flowers?"

"Daisies, darling."

At seventeen, Violet gave her father a brief cold hug before getting into the car that would be driving her to the airport.

"She's probably too upset for extended goodbyes. She will miss you so dearly!" Jane consoled her husband who was sulking about his daughter's lack of affection.

When he wasn't looking, she smiled to herself. Inwardly, she was celebrating her great victory. It was wife vs. daughter and he had picked her and that was as much of a testament to how much he loved her as it was to her proficiency in the conniving arts.

As Violet looked out at the greyness of the world that was passing her by through the black car's windows _ a car that subtly resembled a hearse _ she rubbed her arms with the palms of her hands in a desperate attempt to replicate the comforting feel of Helga's hugs. It didn't work. She was alone now and she very well knew it. 

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