Blue and Purple

September 20, 2009
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It was an hour, and yet it was a year , stretching on forever into eternity. The clock on the wall seems to sense his anxiety and slows.

Tick. . .Tick. . .Tick. . .Tick. . .

His nails dig into the soft leather upholstery as his mind screams. His muscles tense to spring; his clawed fingers the only thing keeping him from leaping from his seat and running, no, sprinting to where she is.

Fear’s icy talons tear at his flesh, frays his nerve endings. Ripping, tearing. Anxiety covers him in icy cold sweat. It drips from his nose.

Drip. . .Drip. . .Drip. . .


“Smile button!” She pressed his nose with the tip of her fingers and giggled bright rainbows.

He laced his fingers through hers and leaned his forehead against hers. “I love you,” he whispered.


He’s breathing heavily. His airway feels constricted, strangled. Gasp.

Time freezes.


She smiled, and for a moment he glimpsed the sun. In her eyes there was a beautiful sort of brokenness, like rainbows in shattered glass.

She wore long sleeves and jeans; he wore a T-shirt and shorts. The air hung hot and heavy, and he knew something was wrong.


Tick. . .Tick. . .Tick. . .


He rolled up her sleeves. Gently. A wince.

Her smiled faded.
Blue and purple.


Footsteps in the hall. A nurse.

Tick. . .Tick. . .Tick. . .


He walked to her house, homework she had missed under his arm.

Her father ran out of the house with wild eyes, hopped into the car and sped off, exhaust pipe spewing noxious death clouds.

The door was unlocked. He ran inside, homework lying like a forlorn puppy, forgotten on the sidewalk.


The footsteps grow louder.

Remember to breathe.

Tick. . .Tick. . .Tick. . .


She lay motionless on the floor.

Puddles of red, spreading like blossoming roses.

A frantic phone call.

Wailing sirens.


The nurse asks for him.

He leaps from his seat, desperately clutching at a tired, frayed blanket called hope. But the nurse’s eyes quickly unravel it. Tears spring to his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse says.

And his world fades to black.

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This article has 9 comments. Post your own now!

anim3gurl said...
Nov. 7, 2011 at 5:30 pm
WOW... this is amazing you are such a wonderful writer you are sooooo vey talented... your writing inspires me =-)
Imaginedangerous This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Apr. 17, 2011 at 4:07 pm
I got it, if it makes you feel better. I liked that 'hope blanket' metaphor- especially when the nurse unravels it.
HollerGirl26 said...
Feb. 24, 2011 at 8:42 pm
Hey, I'm a true fan of you <3!! Your writing is extremely deep and true and magical...this one is sad yet happy...I love it! Just could you tell me what you were trying to say in this? Because I feel like my perception of this is incorrect...
LastChapter said...
Jan. 28, 2011 at 9:31 pm
ok, i'm officially following all your work now. but this is so far my favorite short story piece by you. i especially loved the line "In her eyes there was a beautiful sort of brokenness, like rainbows in shattered glass." really sad, but hey, sadness is a powerful emotion. and you used it well!
jacksonbaby2010 said...
Jan. 22, 2011 at 7:45 am
omg i cried! this is amazing!
Ally25 said...
May 27, 2010 at 4:48 pm

Wow this is realy good..keep writing.


thesilverrose said...
Dec. 6, 2009 at 5:22 pm
I love the clock "tick, tick, tick, tick, tick..." Sad story though. :D Would love to see more.
Kels said...
Sept. 30, 2009 at 8:23 am
The first time I read it I did not look at the deeper meaning of the words. I reall love it.
Indigo said...
Sept. 28, 2009 at 1:30 pm
I get it. Fantasical
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