Violet sat straight up in bed. Choking and covered in sweat. She reached for her puffer and took two practised puffs. As her gasps slowed, the sun peeked through the curtains, stroking her tenderly. She smiled at it weakly. At least if nothing else cared about her, it did.
Violet slipped out from under the covers and tiptoed into the bathroom. Her tiny feet hardly made a sound as they brushed the cold floor. She splashed her face, hardly flinching at the icy water. Lifting a strand of her jet black hair, she sighed. Why bother doing anything with it when the boys just tugged it out? She left it to sit on her shoulders, rustling around her ears, whispering. Sending shivers down her spine...
Who is that girl?
Who is she?
Is her name really Violet Faragher?
Is she really only nine and a half years old?
Is she alone?
Violet stared at herself in the mirror. Even in the half dark her eyes were visible. Her famous, amazing eyes. They sparkled when amused or happy...which was a rare sight. They pierced through your soul when angry or upset. They darkened when sad. They shared the same name as her:
Violet.
"Hey, sweetie, you're up early."
The familiar voice sliced through her peace and burst into hundreds of pieces that echoed around, trying to get inside her head.
No, she told herself. Don't let them in. Don't let her in. She's broken. Broken things never work.
"Violet? Where are you?"
At least she's sober. She always calls you violin when she's...
Violet's eyes dulled so she was invisible, standing half frozen in the dark. She saw the silhouette in the mirror.
"Honey, whataya doing?"
Her mother moved towards her, tentatively. "Hon?"
Violet ignored her, staring straight ahead. Her mother moved towards her, gingerly put a hand on her shoulder and and looked at them both in the mirror.
"Look at us. Facing that big, bad world together, huh?"
No, Violet thought. But she still didn't say a word.
Her mother leaned forward and grabbed the abandoned hairbrush. Then she proceeded to brush her daughter's hair. Violet gritted her teeth, but soon standing so rigid became uncomfortable so she relaxed slightly.
As the morning glow slowly turned the world from black to blue, Violet studied her mother as she went about styling her hair.
She was already dressed and ready. From a distance she looked normal, stylish almost. But Violet knew better. Her baggy parachute pants and pink hoodie hid how thin she was. Make up was caked on her face, disguising slightly yellow skin. Her teeth were bleached to the point of glowing. She always wore closed shoes, like today's sneakers, because inside those shoes, her toenails were starting to rot. Her only real beauty was her hair, long, honey blonde and attractively messy.
"There sweetie, finished. Much better." Violet touched the now smooth locks, then the bangs which had been curled. Suddenly something snapped inside her and for the first time since she could remember, tears flowed freely from her eyes.
"Oh, baby, what is it?" Her mother put her arms around her as she shook from the sobs.
Inside Violet's head was a blizzard of emotions. Fear, anger, frustration, betrayal. How could her mother choose when she loved her? Why couldn't she be like this all the time. Did she really love her anyway? And how could she think she could fix her by making her pretty?
Then, Violet said her first words in 2 and a half weeks.
"Broken. We're both broken."
Violet looked up under her eyelashes at the reflection. Her mothers eyes widened, then narrowed, then darkened with emotion. She lifted Violet's chin and half smiled.
"Come on, Violet. I'll take you to school."
* * *
The car was wrapped in a big blanket called Silence. Violet shifted in her seat, unused to having her school bag between her legs. Unused to being driven at all. The little car trundled along. Her mother kept glancing across, opening her mouth to say something, then changing her mind and turning away.
But she didn't have to say a word. Violet knew this simple act was a step. A step in the right direction. Finally.
Violet reached across and touched her mother's hand. She jumped at the sudden warm contact and glanced at Violet nervously.
"I love you, Mum," the little girl said simply.
Sheira Faragher's eyes welled up and tears gushed out.
Then it all happened.
The 4WD sped around the corner.
Violet yelled out.
Her mother slammed on the brakes.
The little purple car collided with the big black one.
