dancing on the edge | p.t.v {book 2}

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Black.

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Black.

I could still see black. But it wasn't the black of my lids, it was the black in my dress. The black in the tie sitting smartly on Vic's throat. The gleaming black of the coffin, surround in a sea of white flowers. I was half expecting to look at the sky and see black clouds circling, but no. It was a perfect day. The bright blue sky almost blinded me, with soft, white, fairy floss clouds, lazily drifting from one part of the sky to another. The sun beating down, reminding you how much it gives us life, yet could also be dangerous. The breeze was soft, and made my dress lightly tickle the skin on my legs. I ignored what the man was saying most of the time. I also tried to block out the sounds of everyone around me, as they sniffed, and sighed, holding back soft sobs. I looked out, over the other dreary looking tombstones, to the lake that held the reflection of the sun, glittering like some sort of magic mirror. My eyes danced over the water to the other side of the small lake, to the distance across it, where a small rickety bench sat, it's dark green paint peeling from the harsh rays of sun.

As I stared, I saw a young boy, throwing bread crumbs at the ducks who were surrounding his feet. I could hear his delightful scream from here, completely unaware of what misery the world can bring people. For just a moment, a tiny smile slipped up onto my lips, at my own bittersweet memories of that being me.

I sniffed, looking at the mirror in front of me. My hair looked like a boys. I didn't like it one bit. Why did that mean girl have to stick gum in my hair. I never did anything to her. I was actually nice to her. My greens eyes filled with more tears, and my small lip quivered. A face then appeared next to my own in the mirror, as my dad leant down to my height. He gave me a warm smile, his moustache bristling.

"C'mon sweetie, don't cry, its not as bad as you think." He cooed, rubbing my arm. I looked at him, completely distraught. I balled my tiny fist up.

"Yes it is daddy! I look like a boy!" I screeched in my high pitched voice. He chuckled at me, placing his hands on my shoulders. His laughter made my frown deeper.

"Honey, it doesn't matter what you look like. Are you a girl?" He asked me in a soft voice. I sniffed, giving him a confused look.

"Yes." I spoke slowly. He gave me a huge smile.

"Then you're a girl." He beamed. I gave him another annoyed look.

"But I have a boys haircut." I spat, crossing my arms, and making a 'hmpt' sound. He gave me another small laugh, shaking his head. He reach up, and lightly ran his hand through my short hair.

"No, you have short hair, not a boys haircut. Girls can have short hair too. You'll understand more when your older." He mused, I gasped, giving him a shocked look.

"But I'm already a big girl, I'm in school and 5 is a big number." I huffed. He chortled, before resting his hands on his bent knees. He gave me a warm loving look, his eyes looked welcoming. I felt some of my anger from before go away.

"Hey, how about I take you out to make you feel better? We can get some ice cream and go see the duckies." He offered. I squealed loudly, and started jumping up and down, clapping my hands. I stopped, and grabbed his face in my hands.

"Are you seriously going to take me to see the duckies." I asked excitedly. He gave me a grin and nodded.

"Absolutely, I'll even bring some bread so you can feed them. But don't tell your mom." He said with a devious smile, placing a finger to his lips. I gave him a giggle, and copying him by putting my fingers to my lips. He ruffled my hair, before picking me up, as I screeched and giggled. Dad dug his fingers into my sides as I screamed. He eventually put me down, and I whacked his arm for being mean. He did keep his promise, and grabbed a few slices of bread and placing them in a bag.