RED

When she took me home, I was bright, shiny, and ready to party. It seems like a long time ago, but I am not the best with dates. That's not what I was made for. My purpose was different from the duty of the watches Ella kept in the drawer or the clock on the living room wall. I was made to make her shine, feel good, and be happy. My job was not to keep her warm or protect her from anything, but sometimes, I thought my bright existence was more problematic than helpful, as my presence seemed to call for dark intentions. Sometimes, I could read the minds of men looking at me, at her, on nights full of artificial lights and smoke, but that's not what I was made for. I was with her, but I was not her friend or someone to talk to. I was not even a someone. Even if I wanted, there was no way I could tell her what I saw in many, what I saw in one. Since I arrived at her place, I saw days and nights many times while the weather was warm. I hugged her body each and every time because she was my only and favorite person, but then the cold arrived, and I was hidden for a long time, what humans call many months, what they call autumn and winter... and then, one day, I saw the light again. I'd been kept with many others in a drawer of her bedroom. From there, I'd heard laughs and cries. I'd listened to all her daily movements and nightly dreams and sometimes wished I'd hug her in her silent moments when no one was around, despite her wanting them to.

One day, I felt fresh air again, and then, her hands over me. Her fingers ran my golden shiny arms, my bright red body, my seams, and that little medal someone had attached to me on the right bottom. That's the one that touched her hip, the one she used to hold to whenever she was nervous. Her touch that day made me feel something was wrong, and then a little drop of sadness fell over me. She let me hug her once more. She was soft as I remembered, and I tried to slide on her skin as I used to, but I couldn't. I was not enough for her anymore anymore. She pulled me and stretched me while whispering and grunting things I couldn't understand. I wondered if she had changed while I was in my months' sleep or if something had happened the last time she had cared for me, cleaned me, and made me bright again. Our hug seemed odd as if I was not in the right place. A bit more sadness reached me, and then another one. A breeze crossed the room, and the cold hit us both. Her skin reacted against my body, and then, something else... kicked me. I'd never felt that. I was stretched against hers. Her heart was beating fast. My arms held dearly to her shoulders. I didn't need to breathe, but I felt that's what humans would describe as a lack of air....and then, it all finished. She left me. She grabbed me out of her body and threw me against the wall. I fell on the floor, sad and distressed. Had I done anything wrong to her? I stayed there, beside her bed, for days. Many others joined me. For days, I heard cries I couldn't understand. It was warm outside. It was hot inside. I was the one who made her happy. Why didn't she allow me to hug her? Why didn't she want me? 

A stormy day arrived, and Ella finally came to my rescue. She took me off the floor, held me in her arms, and hugged me. I felt the warmth of her body, the rhythm of her heart, the breeze of her breath, and then... the kick again. Ella felt it, too. She looked at me and said goodbye out loud. Then, she placed me in a dark space with many others. That was the last time I saw her and the light for many months. Later, I learned that time is called years. 

"I've nothing," I heard. It had been a long time since I had listened to words. Until that moment, there had been only movement, muffled sounds from the outside, and silence, lots of silence. That day was different, though. It started with a sudden shake. Besides many other pieces of Ella's life, I woke up. We were trapped in a dark place, in a small box. It was crowded, and some funky smell came from inside that space. That's not what my life used to be. I was always fresh and bright, but now I felt cramped and weird. Another shake, this time harder. Then, the voice.

"Can I open this one?" I heard. It was a feminine voice, but not Ellas's. I was afraid of the outside, but I didn't like the space I was in either, so when I heard the tape tearing, I almost gasped—as if I could. What had been silence and nothingness for so long suddenly became a storm, and bits and pieces started to fly away from our long-time home.

"I cannot believe you kept this!" 

That voice... it was not the one I remembered, but it was so similar to what I knew, to whom I'd loved.

Then I saw fingers picking first those on top of me. One after the other, my silent companions left our home, and when I thought it was my time, the movement finished. The hands moved away from me, and the light hit me. The outside was bright white. I could see a lamp hanging on the ceiling but I did not recognize it. Then, as if a ray of light had touched me and made me whole again, I heard her: Ella, my dear Ella, was there. 

"Be careful, Mia, we'll find it."

Another pair of hands appeared in front of me. They touched me and held me. As they lifted me, I recognized their smell, but the touch... the touch was different, harder than I remembered. There were tiny wrinkles in those hands. There was no bright red polish on those nails. She stretched me against the light, and it hurt, as if my fibers had given up and cracked after all the time inside that box. Her fingers ran my golden arms, and some of my shiny particles broke away. I wanted to cry, "Stop! Please! You are hurting me!" but I didn't know how to do it. That's not what I'd been made for.

I saw her—my Ella, the one I used to love—but now she was hurting me. Why was she hurting me? But then, the worst came.

 "Mia, this is for you," she said. 

"What? No? I'm yours, not hers," I thought. I tried to move, to jump, to run—silly of me. Who did I think I was?

A different pair of hands touched me and held me against a body I didn't recognize. Still, there was something... a smell. Her hands were similar to the ones I'd once known. Her skin had the same milky color and the warmth I loved so much. Her dark curls ticked my arms.

She turned to a wall mirror. I remembered what mirrors were. We used to love them, stare at us. We were a good combination, my Ella and I. Those hands, that body was not Ella's. I felt the heart of the body holding me. It was racing.

"I love it, mum!"

The women hugged each other, with me in the middle, suffocating, feeling their bodies against me, their warmth... And then, it kicked me, it hit me, I knew. That's what I was made for. To make them happy.