Purple (horror story)

[from the color tales]

Purple~

"Greetings, boy." Mikaela said as she stared at the student who was passing by. He ignored her without blinking and she went back to her work of sweeping the floor. She knew that this was a shitty job, that taking care of the hygiene of teenagers in a state school forgotten by the administration was madness. “A job without prestige or honor” as her mother would say, but apart from that her family never cared about such things. She turned on her implanted headphones under her black hair with pink highlights and enjoyed The Black Keys while sweeping the students' feet. One of the few band that were made by humans.

It was already her second shift at Lobster High School and she was getting ready to leave. The beige walls that stretched endlessly down the hallway, followed by huge rectangular windows facing the sunset. Mikaela was lucky that there was air conditioning there, otherwise it would be unbearable to feel the sun at this time, maybe what? 55º C?, it’s enough with elite students passing by judging her with their eyes. But honestly, it didn't matter to her so much. She had a broader reason for being there, and you must be wondering what idealistic reason would make a 30-year-old woman work as a janitor, by option, at a high school?

Simple, Mikaela wanted something easy in her life that would give her a sense of accomplishment in real rhealm, so she could feel like she completed her mission here, while every night going to complete it there. With new technologies were not required to sleep that much you see? So, she saved only enough money for herself and didn't care what her family and friends of high valued jobs gossiped about her. “They don’t understand. It must be this way for me to protect my world.”

The sun set and Mikaela went to the soccer club's locker to put away the cleaning supplies. She felt joy while putting away the brooms, remembering what was to come after finishing another day of work, completely oblivious to her surroundings, the stares and comments of the little pricks, for her indistinguishable style, and body fully tattooed of words and promises from the otherside, a place where robots don’t exist, where workers aren’t doomed, where her family isn’t ashamed of her. Graduating, getting married, having a steady job, kids... All a dream you can’t afford. Unless you’re like her of course. A craftswoman, a mother, a lover, soldier. While giving herself those titles she thought of how much she took care of them, like an angel to little demons.

When coming home with headphones still on, it was playing the rock opera, good enough to start her ritual. Mikaela, still covered by the night dew, started setting up her dear purple sofa. Her daughter complained a lot about the purple sofa, saying it made the place gloomy, since the whole house was dark, painted black and lit by high tech candles. This “daughter” didn’t know anything about house arrangements anyway. Always complaining about the smell of the furniture as if Mikaela didn’t spend the entire week cleaning the blood and tending to the rotten leftovers of her husband, so stubborn to fit in the sofa lining. And she sewed him so carefully. A shame. Anyway. She was growing rather tired of this version of her kid.

But as always, her better daughter was already expecting her today, she would quiet down so I had to leave her to her father. Now, continuing the ritual, she went to the kitchen filled with objects proudly made by herself. No new technology would be so comforting as having your family next to you. It would be too cruel to be away from them, she was a good mother, a good wife, a good worker, after all she wasn’t like her mother. And regardless of how annoying they were here they could be perfect there. “So I just integrated them into my home to make a better immersion”. She returned to the dark room and turned on the virtual reality console, she pressed the button next to her face to connect to the television, as it was natural for all citizens to have a chip next to their brain.

Then suddenly, whirlwinds of images appeared in her mind, she was invaded by a feeling of ecstasy and freedom, that feeling, this was her world, filled the minds of the one’s she loves most, a place where she was perfect and powerful. With a huge fiefdom on top of a mountain, thy name name was Mik254_hero. A heroine, revolutionary and creator of her own reality who agreed to get rid of worldly affairs to start her life over again – a place where anger doesn’t murder anyone by accident – she entered the castle there, full of platinum and diamond armor, a sword the size of her body and purple hair that extended the height of her body braided in the blood of her enemies.

Her majestic image was an affront to the neighboring lords and the glory of her servants and peasants. She went from the great golden hall to the room of crystal chandeliers and precious stones, and in the midst of so much ostentation she found the character of a child, a man and several graves of elderly people. It was her daughter, her husband and her family, all gathered to welcome their matriarch, the great Mik254_hero. Here they were alive, here they were perfect.

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