Bella is fiery red. She hates her dad for everthing he did. Or more specifically, for everything he didn’t do.

Anna is deep blue. Her heart was crushed just like the weight of the ocean. He led her on and changed her color, hue by hue. Her spirit has been slowed down and tears fill her soul.

Owen is golden. He makes the world laugh. More importantly, he makes me laugh. The sun shines brighter on him than any other of its subjects in the solar system. He combats the bright light with his own blinding smile.

Then there’s me.

If I were a color, I’d be grey. There’s nothing to me, just like how the color grey gets passed over. Unexciting and unloved.

Bella, Anna, and Owen’s Objection

“If you insist on being grey, at least let us tell you what kind of grey you are. You’re the soft velvet fur of a rabbit in the spring. The kind of grey that blankets the sky and soothes the earth which gives the world a small breath of clarity. The smooth yet strong stones scattered across the shore line that shine in the sunlight. The grey that storm clouds gather and demand to be heard by. That’s the type of grey you are, and don’t you ever forget it.”

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