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Red. What is red? We all know red is a colour at the end of the spectrum next to orange and opposite to violet. That is an abstract defination of the colour Red. But does red only mean the abstract meaning? Do we - humans and puppets whomever- see red as only a colour or as the symbolized myth it displays itself as? Why say 'symnolized myth', you may ask. To cease your curiosity, I used symbolized myth because of the spiritual and mythical meaning the colour red bears. What do we think of when we see red? Some thinks of rose, some thinks of love; where some thinks of blood, violence. It depends on their perspective, of course. I would not cross the line to establish my way of thinking about the colour red.
Oh you noticed? I used the word 'puppet'. Why? Why not animal? That is because i am a puppet. Now puppets don't tallk. But i do. You can think of me - us- as an exception. Did you know that red also means happiness? But there's a weird relation between red and happiness. What kind of relation? Well how the relation between pressure and volume is of an ideal gas, where temperature is constent. Just like that. Whenever happiness dies, red arises. Because there's always the smell of blood when happiness dies.
I have tried to believe what the humans' believe of red. Happiness, love, passion.. Etc etc. I tried. Trust me. But failed miserably. Because red will always remain a bad omen to me.
I remember the first day i was created. I was created with such love and gentleness. Oh how i wish i knew their motive! I remember being brought to the puppeteer. His little suitcase was filled with us. I mean us puppets. I remember falling in an awkward situation before my peers and seniors. Some were old and some were new borns. I remember walking into the susurrus suitcase. Walking while listening to their whispers of ' oh my another red' and ' a bed omen again. Can't the old man have enough of this tragedy? '
I couldn’t understand it back then but i do now. Because red is a bed omen and i am threaded in red.
Days passed by isolation. Why interect with a misfortune?
Days turned weeks and weeks turned months and no one paid me any heed. I was brought here to be abandoned. By my creator, my master and by my fellow puppets. I saw their pain and suffering but no one did mine. Our master was a ruthless tyrant. He didn’t pay any mind to our wails and whines. He only cared for money and if we could bring him the pennies, we would get to live. Otherwise you will have to meet the same fate as Yellow did. As Violet did. As Maroon did. I remember the day when Yellow's day had been cut short.
Oh how the pained screams still haunt my nights!
Yellow was burned alive. Violet was torn apart . Maroon's body was shredded to pieces with the same force maroon held. I remained silent. Afraid to meet the same path.
But what's there to be afraid of if i was being abandoned my whole life? I was only useful in shows. What's more painful then getting abandoned again and again and again? I often wanted to rebel against master. I wished to meet the same path if it meant i would be freed from this nightmare. I wish to forget their screams and cries. I wish to forget the pathetic sight of one of us left behind to rot.
But Oh you flew towards me like the blue angel and spread your neon blue wings. Sprinkling little glitters of luck in the air. You came when i wished to move faraway. Oh how you held onto me like i was so dear to you. How i felt overwhelmed with such tenderness.
My little blue angel. How can a half-decade be more generous and tender than a three- decade? Oh sweet little pie. You are so beautiful. I love seeing you play. I love seeing that smile on your face. I love the view of you baby hairs floating in gentle zephyr. How your face gleams in joy when you dance with me. And how you bloom like the queen. A blossom of rose in the forbidden heart. I want to live this life forever and forget the past.
But you don’t forget your past. I was so overjoyed with the new start that i had forgotten my pathetic end. I forgot i bring misfortune. That i am a bad omen.
I was a tool in the puppet show. I was the puppet who wanted to cut the thread.
But what is the purpose of a puppet who is not tied to a thread?
Useless.
As i remain useless in comforting her when she fell into tragedy.
How can a tragedy comfort another tragedy? I didn’t know.
The shadow of death and despair looming over her like a shelter in a hurricane. She looked peaceful in the despair.
Oh her blue, beautiful blue wings turned a mosaicism of black and purple. How they hurt! Her long hair turned fetters to her. Her already pale skin started to fade away. Away from all.
An eldritched sight was it. Never have i ever felt so utterly helpless in someone's departure. A kind of cordolium i never felt.
I was once again abandone by the only one to ever love me. She was a rose in my forbidden soul.
Now i lay there abandoned. Just like the rose in my heart started to wilt. A wilting flower is forbidden to touch as it will wilt from a mere draft. As my wilting heart is forbidden to love. Because I was forbidden to love, she had to die for my love.
Can you guess who am i? I am the truth threaded in red that everyone dreads.