"Dad?" echoed a small voice from the darkened corner, lights switched out well past midnight. Purple stood there, a small, six-year-old stick figure clutching a piece of rose quartz in her hands. Her usually neatly braided hair was messy from restlessly lying awake far later than she should have been, and she was shuffling her feet anxiously. Navy looked up from the pile of mail and medical bills on the desk, his eyes heavy and his jaw set from stress. "What, Purple?" he said, barely holding back from snapping at her. "When is Mama coming home?" Navy looked at her--at this small, innocent little girl who had no idea what was happening to her mother across town in that cold, white room. "I don't know," he said bluntly, unable to meet the eyes he knew were welling up with tears. Sniffing, Purple opened her mouth to ask a question... Then closed it. "Goodnight," she mumbled in a trembling voice, turning back towards her room. "Goodnight, Purple," Navy said, voice low, head dropping back down. . . . Purple had grown. Tall. Strong. As tough as her father had needed her to be when he was still around. Now, as she sat by her mother's side in the hospital room, crying into Pink's cold hands as the doctors stood silently nearby, she would have traded all that growth, all that strength, everything that now defined her in a split second to somehow find out what could have gone wrong. "When are you coming home, Mama?" she whispered through sobs. "When are you coming home?"
Um Have some angst that I wrote :) I hope it's not too sad but I also do hehe. I live for the tears. Sorry it's kind of short tho lol, if anyone has writing ideas I'd be glad to hear them :3 Lil thing to celebrate summer break! -Boba
