It was just the other day that he came to me. It was soft at first; soft and quiet I barely even noticed it. It comes to all, they say. Or, It’s only a phase, ignore him. And so, when he came to me I did just that. He would try to get me to stay away from my friends and hang out with his. Personally, I didn’t understand the stigma. Why were people so bent on me ignoring him? He had this way about him, he didn’t seem all that horrible. He would bring me flowers; blue hydrangeas. They stirred something in me.

So, the next day I spoke to Lily. She was a young girl who went to the same school as me. She had recently been seen with him. I walked up to her and inquired about him. Was he really as bad as everyone said?


“Oh, yes, he is quite nice. No one else will speak with me. He brings me pretty blue flowers and paints my face with pretty blue makeup.” I nodded a thank you and walked to class. I noticed something that day, after my conversation with Lily. The world I was living in hadn’t been what I thought. I used to look around and see yellows and pinks, purples and deep reds. I saw smiles and hugs, sunshine and daisies. Now, I saw blues; periwinkles, cornflowers, royals, yales, cobalts, and irises. There were no smiles, only mocking faces and upturned noses. No hugs or sunshine, only shadows and lilies. And…hydrangeas. Yes, hydrangeas.


I left school early disgusted by what I had seen and heard. I wanted the blue, yes, but in my own terms, not theirs. I wouldn’t let them tell me I was stupid and attention seeking for wanting to be friends with him. Their world was filled with fake yellow smiles.  


What I loved the most about it was there were no surprises. Everything was blue, no rouge or mustard, no, nothing like those disgusting colors. Just blue, my blue. It would come in waves at first, after my first time with him. It came so sporadically that I was unsure if he had really come through, but eventually, after meeting with him more and more, I saw more blue.


All of the birds were blue, the trees and their leaves no matter the season, my cereal and salad (although, after a bit I stopped eating as much). Everything was a beautiful and tangible shade of the purest and most mesmerizing blue. Nothing else caught my eye quite like it.


My mom and dad didn’t understand me anymore, how could I expect them to? They couldn’t see it. They were stuck in their drab world of grins and garnets. Every once in a while, I would feel bad for them and I would even sort of miss my other friends. Sort of. Maybe it wasn’t so much I missed them, but that I just forgot what it felt like. I’d go up to them and say hi. They would respond, but I could tell that they didn’t care to understand. They just wanted me back in their world and so I’d retreat back to him and to the blue, because it was safer. They threatened to call the police or lock me up so he couldn’t get to me. I yelled and yelled at them, spitting out steel saliva. He was mine, and he brought me the blue.


Well, at least I thought he was mine. I saw him at school with others. I saw him try to talk with another girl and I could feel my face deepening to an embarrassing shade of powder blue. She would smile at him as he grabbed onto her hand and guided her away from the others. I followed them into the bathroom and I saw them together. He was handing her carnations, in a marvelous hue of Prussian blue.


The next day I asked him about the other girl and why he hadn’t brought me my hydrangeas. He ignored me. I asked him again and he turned from me. I yelled and tore my throat from the effort. His eyes were beryl and his mouth was ciel. I reached out my hand to him but it fell through the smoke of the blue shadows. I just wanted my hydrangeas. I wanted the beautiful shade to myself.


He wouldn’t give them to me and so I took them from him. I snuck away by the navy of night and along cambridge trees. I had to do it, don’t you see? I needed those hydrangeas, it was all I needed for my perfect blue world. That’s when they got it; when they all came to see my hydrangeas, offset by the cool grey dirt.



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