Glow

A thin sliver of light was coming from the closet in her bedroom and no one wanted to come and look. Mia had noticed it two nights ago and immediately ran to her parents' bedroom. They were sitting upright and she knew without asking that they’d been fighting.

“There’s something scary in my room again,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back to hide the paint smears that decorated her fingers and palms. 

“No, there isn’t,” said her mother, dismissing her with a wave of her hand. “I told you last night, we don’t want to hear another word about it!”

Mia closed the bedroom door and wasn’t even halfway down the hall when she heard the fight continue. This was the standard fare in their house. Her parents fought and she tried to stay out of the way, but they never refused to come help chase away her monsters, and definitely not two nights in a row.

She was dragging her feet, trying to delay the inevitable. Before long though, she’d reached her bedroom door and had no choice but to go inside. A tiny part of her couldn't help but hope that it would be gone, but no such luck.

The light was pulsating somewhat, giving it the appearance of a beating heart. She was scared, but there was also a gnawing sense of curiosity in her gut that made her step forward and take hold of the door handle.

It was strangely hot to the touch as if it had been warmed by the sun. Mia took a deep breath, her tiny hand shaking as she turned the knob and pulled open the door. It took her a moment to adjust to the brightness of the light. She stood blinking dumbly, unable to make out anything discernible.

As her eyes adjusted, she realised that she was in someone’s back yard. She ran that through her mind again to see if it would make more sense. Someone’s back yard.

It didn’t. None of what she was seeing made any sense. Not the oddly shaped trees and certainly not the multicoloured grass. It looked like someone spilt a box of crayons over the world.

That night, Mia stayed in her multicoloured cupboard world and was only brought out by the angry hands of her mother. She dragged Mia from her room and hit her so hard she actually tasted the blows on her tongue.

“I told you not to do that!" she kept saying over and over, punctuating each blow with another syllable.

That was the last day she saw the light. It seemed to have disappeared, taking with it the colours she used to highlight her life. All she had left now was grey. It was a perfectly good colour on its own but needed the rainbow to really showcase its beauty.

***

The night of Mia’s seventeenth birthday, the light shone again. She’d finished having cake with her father and sat on the edge of her bed clutching the letter in her hand. It was short, painfully so and contained nothing more than was customary.

Happy birthday. Have a good year. Love, mom.

That was it. The spaces in between were so empty it actually made her heart hurt. She hadn’t hoped for much, but this was somehow worse than not getting anything at all. It didn’t leave room for interpretation.

She looked up, her vision swimming and that’s when she noticed the light. It was illuminating the door with a soft glow. The sight of it was both comforting and disconcerting, like an old friend that suddenly shows up in the middle of your Sunday lunch.

Mia walked to the door and grasped the handle. Unlike the doorknob before, the handle was cold to her touch, frigid really. She opened the door and stepped inside.

The world inside was one of bleakness. There was no colour to populate it, no joyful sun to shine down on the misshaped trees. The lack of colour was beginning to affect her too. As she glanced down at her once purple dress, she realised it was being stripped of its pigment. The vibrant colour faded and she was left with a dress as grey as her world.

That’s when the idea came to her. She would paint this world red and bring some life back to the dreary scenery. Paint it red and give it back some vibrancy.

She spent hours in the cupboard that night and when she woke, her arms were wrapped in white fabric. She hurt all over and her mouth tasted foul. The light had once again disappeared, but it seemed to have taken her sadness with it this time, leaving her broken, but better.

***

The final time she saw the light was the day Ariel painted the walls. Her little hands were coated in paint, with smears of the stuff over her cheeks and streaked through her hair.

Mia had walked in as she was drawing the whiskers onto the blue and green cat. The walls were covered in pictures of animals, from cats and rabbits to elephants and giraffes.

The moment Ariel spotted her, she hid her hands behind her back and moved away, trying to hide her latest creation with her skinny body. It was a pointless endeavour as the walls were covered with her handy work and brought a smile to Mia's face.

“Come here,” she said, gesturing for her daughter to join her by the cupboard door.

“Do you see that?” she asked, pointing the little girl’s head towards the glow emanating from behind the door.

She nodded and grasped Mia tightly, smearing her hair and clothes with the paint.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s something beautiful that only some of us can see, it won’t hurt you.”

She pushed her towards the door and watched as it opened, spilling a wondrously warm light into the room. This was the light so many sought, but couldn’t find and she would be damned if her daughter was ever going to lose it as she had.