Why a Red Day?

It is a pink day. With cotton candy clouds and a watermelon sky. The horizon is flamingo and dancing with wisps of coral flame. I walk on the yellow cobblestone path, spreading my thick wool hood over my bumpy arms. The chilled air hollows my red cheeks and sends vibrations down my limbs.

The trees are thin and black, they taunt me with his name.

Tobias

But I push his name away. I push the sight of his freshly dug grave away from my head because it numbs my inside and turns my lips grapeseed purple. The walk is long and the howling wind threatens to shake me, but I keep my figure tense and poise my head upwards like a courageous mountain. My hand feels the smooth angled surface of a diamond, I pull the ring out and watch its magnificent figure glint in the early dawn light. I remember the day when Tobias kneeled down to me, tears in his eyes. But now his carcass is hidden deep beneath the earth.

Tobias

His face was warm like a sunset and cold like a snowy day. His hair was black like an empty night and his eyes were black like a sky full of stars. I put one foot in front of the other, twirling the unopened umbrella between my fingers. The umbrella is white marble, so pristine and shiny. The shaft of the umbrella is clear and blue and shaped like a lotus flower. The handle is the most saddening of all, it is carved with my name. Bridget. The Umbrella is a gift from Tobias, the only last thing that I have to hold onto. It is supposed to rain today, but unluckily it isn't. It would have satisfied my sadness with blue drops falling from the blank emotionless canvas. But instead, it is pink like the colour of freshly bloomed roses.

From the pocket in my coat, I pluck out a pickle. Green and freckled with big bumps. It is my mourning source. I take a large bite and feel the strong acid floods through me. I look ahead, staring at the racing cars and the flashing traffic lights. A man stands in front of me, with a hood shielding his face. His fingers are long and pointy like Tobias's. I remind myself that I am seeing the world differently because my view is covered in utter sadness. I walk right past him without a hint of hesitation. I feel a quaint tap on my back. I turn around. And his smile is a smile that I have seen many times before.

___

I don’t know whether to feel happy or angry. I want to leap into a hug but blazing fire jumps inside my chest. He looks different, the lines underneath his eyes are dark and sangria purple. His hair isn’t shoulder length, it's a hard strict stubble. His cheeks are hollow and his eyes are empty.

“Tobias.” I mutter, my word drops like a heavy stone. I reach out to touch his arm, to reassure myself that I am not dreaming. But his arm is solid, solid as rock. I sigh.

“You.” His thin lips curve into a semi-circle. 

I rock my feet back and forth.

“I’ve gotten myself into some messy business, Bridget. I-I.” He pauses.

I feel happy like a chirpy butterfly soaring through the clouds, but his lack of emotion frightens me. 

He continues, “I got a job and it has high pay. Very high, really.” 

Tobias’s thin lips break into a chuckle which glows like sunshine as we walk down the yellow cobblestone.

“Why aren’t you dead?” I cut in, my voice is ghostly. He frowns, and his brows knit. 

“I had to. I wanted to see how many people really love me? Before- before I tell you about my job.”

“And what is your job?”

“Guess. It has very high pay as I already mentioned earlier. It involves hard work and you must be incredibly devoted.”

“A surgeon?” I imagine Tobias running around a hospital, in blue scrubs.

“No- guess again.”

The sky turns red, each cloud emblazoned with lollipop red light. The trees are even more black, they are dark as shadows against the crimson sky.

“A lawyer.” Tobias always has an argumentative side. He’s always bargaining and negotiating. 

“No.”

I pause and stop to think.

“Give me a hint,” I ask, pulling my hair back.

“Well, it involves making sacrifices. Dropping the things you love most.”

“I don’t know.”

He pulls a sharp silver knife that gleams in the red sun. And now I understand why the sky is red. Red is the colour of blood and loss. As he reaches to stab the knife in my chest, he whispers in my ear, “Assassin.”

The world goes dark.