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My Sunshine

A Colorful Tale of Divorce

By Elizabeth SmithPublished 6 years ago 15 min read
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She smiled, she laughed, she played, but still, everything changed. She didn’t know who to blame, so she asked herself, ”What have I done wrong?”

Dorothy breathed in the fresh air of the summer day and exhaled happily. Warmth radiated against her skin, causing her to shiver in pleasure as her varicolored eyes explored the scenery before her.

Vast hills covered in luscious grass stretched far and wide, magenta butterflies and pink fairies dancing throughout them like ballerinas. A magical waterfall plunged closely behind the girl, its electric blue rush glistening in the golden rays of the sun. Snow covered mountains, which sat in the distance, glowed like brilliant pink crystals and fluffy white clouds encircled their peaks.

Perfect. See? Everything is perfect. Are you happy, my sunshine?”

Dorothy giggled. The beauty of the scene was satisfying and she twirled about in delight.

“Yes, I’m happy.”

But then a thought occurred to her. More. I want more of this, more like this.

That wasn’t too much to ask, right?

Dorothy squinched her eyes closed in concentration.

Candy canes, sugar cubes, gummy bears, and clouds of flavored cotton. What could be better than candy? The girl giggled delightfully at her own ideas, eyes still shut, as she continued to create the new scene.

The beauty she imagined was unrealistic and appealing.

A magical place, filled to the brim with bright color, brilliant light, and overbearing sweetness.

Dorothy opened her beautiful eyes in excitement and her new wonderland dazzled into existence before her.

It was perfect. Impossibly perfect.

The girl clasped her hands in delight at the exquisiteness. Oh, the beauty and joy she had imagined!

Farmers called to one another as they worked happily in pink candy-colored hills. Orchards of candy cane trees were sprouted, along with rows of lollipop bushes and swirls of chocolate vines. The candy cane trees blossomed with red flowers and Dorothy breathed in the thick, minty scent they released. The sweet smells all around the child were overwhelming. An adult might even venture to say unpleasant or sickening, but the girl loved it.

It was all very bizarre, but to her it was beautiful, and to her it made sense.

Perfect. See? Everything is perfect. Are you happy, my sunshine?”

The girl smiled. This was how it was supposed to be, right?

“Yes, I’m happy.”

And she was happy. She loved it and wanted more.

So the little girl closed her eyes again.

A rough softness grounded the souls of Dorothy’s feet and a strong breeze knocked against her sides. Cool wetness splashed her legs in a gentle manner and she squealed in delight. Heat christened her skin more strongly than before, but it was not quite unpleasant.

The girl grinned. She couldn’t wait to see.

Her eyes opened.

A smile as wide as the water that laid before her spread across the little girl’s face. The mountains had broken way to a horizon, the pink hills had become yellow sand dunes, and the waterfall had been replaced by the vastness of a deep blue sea. Enchanting birds squalled and blue dolphins clicked to the little girl from just off the shore. The girl blissfully waved back and began to complacently skip along the beach.

Perfect. See? It’s perfect. Are you happy, my sunshine?”

Dorothy smiled and a joyful sigh escaped her lips.

“Yes, I’m happy. I’m very happy.”

Suddenly, the atmosphere began to change.

The air became moist, hot. The wind changed directions, pulling out to sea. Thick gray clouds gathered in the sky and monstrous waves hit the shore with mean slaps as the water grew dark, causing the little girl to fearfully retreat further inshore in confusion.

What was this?

I don’t like it.

The wind whipped her and a painful rain drenched her skin. The beautiful horizon had disappeared from view.

“I don’t like it at all!” she cried, but she could not be heard over the howls of the storm.

Dorothy frantically closed her eyes again, desperately searching for something different, something good, something new. The sounds of the storm screamed obnoxiously in her ear.

She concentrated. She imagined. She changed them.

Silence, tranquillity.

The storms left her head and the rustle of dry, brittle leaves replaced them. Birds chirped peacefully and the sounds of small animals murmuring to each other reached the girl’s ears. Running water, perhaps that of a bubbling spring, flowed like a prose in the background of it all.

Dorothy’s beautiful eyes opened and lit up in ignorant delight, her previous nightmarish encounter pushed to the back of her mind.

She stood deep in the midst of an enchanted autumn forest surrounded by piles upon piles of brightly colored leaves. The leaves crunched beneath her feet as she walked, causing her to giggle. The trees of the forest were fairytale high and squirrels briskly raced between their branches, cackling and scratching at one another playfully.

We’re sorry, sweetheart. But now and forever, we’re perfect. See? Everything is perfect.”

Dorothy naively nodded.

Are you happy now, my sunshine?”

The little girl smiled.

“Yes, I’m happy.”

Suddenly, a rainbow feathered bird flew down from a branch and landed on Dorothy’s shoulder. She smiled at it happily.

“Hello, Mr. Bird,” she greeted softly, reaching up to her shoulder and stroking its head. The bird made no movement to escape as the girl pat him. If anything, it chirped and bobbed contently. The girl laughed and the bird seemed to tweet happily with her. Dorothy took the rainbow bird in her hand and lifted it to the sky as an independent breeze whistled around them.

“Fly, little friend,” she gently commanded the bird. The bird complacently looked at her once more before turning and raising its wings, as if it were obeying her. Dorothy threw her hands up softly, giving the small beautiful bird a boost. It soared into the air, flapping freely and chirping joyfully. Dorothy couldn't help but laugh and wave as the dot in the sky flew higher and began to disappear from view.

Crack!

Dorothy froze.

The dot became larger again.

No.

The bird was falling, and it was falling fast.

The bird dropped to the ground with a thud. Its wings were broken, snapped in half. Its beautiful feathers were drained of color and emanated nothing but a dull grey. The girl stood shocked. Tears filled her eyes.

“No, please. Please no.”

Dorothy ran through the leaves and dropped to the ground next to the bird. She picked it up and began to yell at its limp body.

“Wake up! Wake up!”

The bird’s eyes glassily stared back at her.

It was dead. The bird was dead.

Dorothy didn't understand.

It had just been fine, had it not? It had just been happy, had it not? This couldn’t be the same bird, could it?

“No, please. You must wake up. You must fly again! Please!”

She pleaded and pleaded, but the bird remained still.

Crack! Lightning struck, again.

Dorothy looked away from the bird for the first time since its fall. Dark clouds had overtaken the sky of the forest, threatening the evil rain from before. The piles of bright leaves that had littered the ground were now nothing more than heaps of decaying matter. The trees glared hatefully down at the small girl and the squirrels quarreled madly. The birds had all gone silent.

Dorothy began to cry.

What was this nightmare? This wasn't what she wanted.

She had to change it.

Dorothy closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, but the storm overwhelmed her senses. Mold and death circulated through the air. The world had become eerie, desolate. It seemed as if the forest were closing in on her.

The small girl tried again and again, concentrating with all her might, but nothing was changing. Tears streamed down her face. With every tear, a touch of color drained from the girl’s eyes.

“You promised! she cried out. “You promised, did you not?!”

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze.

You’re right, my sunshine. You’re right.

The world remained frozen. It wasn't exactly getting better, but it was no longer getting worse. Dorothy breathed a sigh of relief. She had been given a chance.

She closed her eyes and concentrated.

Sweetly overwhelming.

A thousand different scents met the girl’s receptors and she opened her eyes. Flowers of prolific variety poured across the landscape for miles. No trees stood, no mountain boundaries. Just flowers. Billions of bright colored flowers. Tulips and lilies danced in the wind, loose petals forming swirls of color as the breeze swept them away. Dorothy smiled.

The bird was forgotten.

The girl breathed in the smells of the nectar and swirled with the petals, spinning round and round in circles of bliss.

This was what she wanted. This was how it should be.

Perfect. See? Everything is perfect. Are you happy, my sunshine?”

Dorothy smiled with glee.

“Yes, I’m happy.” No worries, no cares. This was all she wanted.

A door appeared.

Dorothy froze.

No.

It was a bleak door, like those that could be found on the front of any house, not threatening to anyone's first glance, but Dorothy gaped in horror at it. She shook her head violently.

No. She wouldn't allow that scary door in her world. Not this world. She wanted away from it.

“This doesn’t make me happy,” the small girl whimpered.

Crack!

Lightning suddenly struck the door. It opened.

Dorothy didn't want to see. She didn't want to face it. She turned and began to run.

Thunder boomed and an all too familiar cloudy torrent consumed the sky. Dorothy gazed helplessly at the dark storm above her. Its winds tore up the ground, ripping the flowers from their beds and tossing them like dolls.

The color had vanished from the petals.

Dorothy gripped her head.

“Please, no. Please, stop,” she whimpered. She wanted it to change. She wanted it to stop. She tried to imagine, somewhere, anywhere, but it was getting harder. Her senses were being dulled, narrowed. Dorothy stumbled to her feet and began to run. Away, she just had to get away.

“Please, stop this!” she cried in desperation.

We don’t know if we can anymore, little light, we just don’t know if we can. But we’ll try.”

The storm refused to stop completely, but it calmed enough to give Dorothy a chance.

Still running, the small girl shut her eyes and concentrated. She opened them.

Dorothy gasped as her foot struck a rock and she fell into a thick fern. Scrambling, she pushed it off of herself, rising as quickly to her feet as physically possible.

She was in the middle of a jungle.

The jungle was not like the past places. It was bleak, almost lifeless. The scene lacked detail and was instead filled with blank silence and depressing shadows. The moss in the trees was gray and the leaves on all the plants were colored an unhealthy yellow-green.

But Dorothy didn't cry in frustration at the ugliness of this place, she sighed in relief that it had been made at all.

Perfect. See? Everything is perfect. Are you happy, my sunshine?”

The little girl stood silently for a moment. Was she happy? No, not really. Perfect was hardly the word she wanted to use to describe this gray space, and happy was hardly the word she felt described her mood.

But if she was happy, wouldn't they be happy? She had to be happy.

“Yes, I’m happy.”

It wasn’t the best place, but it wasn’t the worst. The little girl smiled. It was just a place that needed a little hope was all.

Dorothy began to walk, not in any particular direction, just forward. As she walked, she brushed her fingers against the trees and the plants that surrounded her. Instantly, those which were touched became lively and their flowers bloomed. The girl smiled again, slightly cheerier.

She began to run. Life followed her.

Simple jungle animals began to squawk and squeal, braying happily. Vibrant colors, textures, and sounds began to richen the scenery. Green, blue, pink. Soft, rough, smooth. Loud, quiet-

Crack!

Dorothy froze.

“No, I can't do it again. Please.”

The sound of a tree crashing to the ground echoed behind her.

The girl didn't look back. She ran. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her.

Dorothy shoved her way through the underbrush, bushes and thorns tearing at her skin. Ignoring the scratches, she kept going, tears breaking from her eyes once more and streaking her cheeks.

Slam!

The door. She had run into the door.

Her body collapsed against it from the impact and she screamed as if its very touch had burned her. The jungle’s newfound color began to fade again as the sky darkened. The jungle itself began to wither away.

Dorothy stared at the door in terror, its ominous realness consuming her vision.

“No, no, no. Stop. Stop it. Stop!” Her voice faded in and out as she screamed. The jungle melted away entirely.

She was back in the flower field, or what remained of it more like. The land was wasted, the flowers scattered and torn to shreds. The vast horizon was dark, blocked, no longer limitless.

“No, no, no…”

Thunder screamed at the small girl, taunting her with its approaching rain and clouds.

“Please, stop!”

The forest was crying in agony. The trees were black, the squirrels were rabid, and the birds had all fallen to the ground. Everything was dead, everything was drained. The grass was dry and shriveled. The stream that had once bubbled in the background was now a muddy torrent.

In the middle of it all, a room with a single closed door had appeared.

“Why is this here? Where is my place? What about my world?” the girl cried hysterically, tearing at her hair with her hands. The forest began to wither like a dead corpse, disintegrating before her eyes.

The ocean raged, smashing the shore, soaking Dorothy. The water was black, angry. The sand of the beach was trashed with an ugly gray seaweed, itself a sickly pale. The bleak sun began to fade as the storm caught up, still screaming, still taunting.

Again, the room with the door appeared. It stood in the midst of the crashing waves, unreachable.

And this time, the door sat open. Inside stood two people, mercilessly yelling at one another.

The beach vanished completely.

The orchards were dimming, but not yet completely tarnished. Farmers stood next to the trees, upset, perplexed at what was happening.

Dorothy breathed in heavy relief and sprinted with her remaining energy towards the farmers, tears still running down her cheeks. Maybe hope was not yet lost. Maybe there was a chance.

“Please, please, help me,” she cried, tripping over her own feet as she ran downhill. A farmer caught her as she fell.

“Dorothy…” The candy cane farmer’s voice was scared, dying. The girl looked up. The farmer was devoid of color. His skin was gray, his hair was gray, his eyes were gray, and his voice was a mere childish whimper. Dorothy backed away, terrified, shoving him off. The farmer took a longing step forward.

“Help them, Dorothy. Fix it, Dorothy,” he pleaded like a scared toddler, black tears running down his cheeks. He was beginning to fade. The girl gripped her head fiercely with her hands and gritted her teeth, shaking violently. She couldn’t concentrate, she couldn’t imagine. Reality was setting in, and it was tearing her apart.

“They don't listen. No one listens anymore. No one listens to me. I try and try, but nothing will change anymore.”

Dorothy turned away from the vanishing farmer and ran. As she ran she looked at the orchards. They were dying as quickly as they had grown not too long before.

“What about me? What about my world?”

The chocolate vines and rows of lollipop bushes had rotted, rotted into reality. The candy cane farmers were gone.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Bolts of lightning struck the dying candy cane trees, toppling them all at once. They disappeared like everything before them had as the scene swirled again.

The hills were barren. The falls were dry. The mountains were crumbling.

Dorothy stood despairingly at the center of it all.

In front of her sat the room, its door still open, the two people still fighting, their yelling at each other increasing in volume.

Dorothy wanted to stop them. She tried to yell out, but her voice wouldn't come. The people in the room were growing angrier and angrier.

Finally, one of them had had enough.

He stormed out of the room, out of the door.

Dorothy watched helplessly, reaching out her small hand as if maybe there was a chance she could bring him back.

“No… Please don't go…”

The world froze.

The man paused and turned to look at the little girl. His expression was filled with despair and exhaustion, one might dare to say guilt. Tears brimmed his eyes at the sight of the hopeless little girl, but he turned away. It was easier not to look.

“No, don’t look away from me! Stay! Please, stay!” the girl yelled, choking on sobs. The man hung his head.

I’m sorry, my sunshine.”

He vanished.

Crack!

Lightning struck the mountain tops and they toppled, boulders skidding like pebbles down the sides.

Dorothy remained still, her eyes hopeless and distant as she turned to stare at the room. The remaining person inside was crying.

The storm was upon Dorothy.

The thunder screamed, it cackled, it brayed. The clouds diluted the sky to black and the evil rain came down in buckets. Everything was washing away, everything was vanishing.

Dorothy looked down at her hands, at her arms, feet, legs. She was vanishing, her colors were dimming, and she couldn't change it. The girl stood in silence, in despair and defeat.

She couldn't win. It was over.

Dorothy slumped to the ground and began to cry, her tears draining the last bit of color from her beautiful eyes.

She took one last look at her decimated world, and closed them.

divorced
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About the Creator

Elizabeth Smith

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