Red

01

The first time he decided red was his least favorite color was when it came flying towards him, standing out against the bright green grass of the orchard.

The apple hit him square in the nose, a solid 'thunk' audible as he stumbled backwards, tripping over dizziness and his own ankles.

Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, and he would've been angry, if Samuel weren't already helping him up off the ground.

"I said catch," Caleb called, climbing down from the tree he'd situated himself in. "Didn't mean t' hit ya."

"Whatever," the boy replied, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

<><><><><>

The second time he was reminded of his dislike for the color red was as he laid on his side, sprawled in the mud, eyes open only halfway. The awful sound of a blade slicing into flesh made him cringe a little, each time. He'd kept count, in a sickening way, but what else could he have done to keep from going insane?

His vengeance was short-lived as the man toppled over, eyes wide with surprise that the captain he'd ambushed turned out to be very much alive after all.

He tore the jacket away, pulled it and the bonnet onto himself, and took up the musket.

His eyes locked with a boy who no longer saw, no longer was living, one who he'd been responsible for.

Despite the fact that he didn't feel it, it still seemed wrong to have to stab him through the heart, his blood gushing from his chest and his mouth.

There was no time to reflect as the Queen's Rangers realized that the man dressed in their uniform was an imposter. All he had time to do was run.

<><><><><>

The third time he felt a strong resentment for the color red was as he saw his best friend flat on his back under a tree, blood pouring rather steadily from multiple wounds, made too evident for his liking by the fact it contrasted greatly with the snow.

He felt a wave of nausea wash over his entire body, his fingers and toes going numb as he tried- in vain- to do something, anything.

"Hey, Benny..."

"Shh, shh... it's okay," he lied. "It's okay. You're... I..."

Words failed him, for once. What was he supposed to say?

His thoughts, his reality, all of it caught up to him as he realized that his friend was no longer breathing, and the glassy-eyed stare he was being given was devoid of sight and life.

"Caleb," he whispered, his breath coming out as a wisp of fog. "Ca... Caleb, you can't, please, Caleb..."

It was pointless.

Suddenly, this whole war seemed like a horrible idea from the start.