Red.

Sravani Mallavarapu
3 min readJul 24, 2020

Follow the path your parents set out for you and you’ll be safe. They’re older and wiser, they know what’s best. If you stray from the path you risk ruination and despair. Conventional wisdom; it boils down to respect your elders.

Even if there is any truth to that.

Even if following the path to the letter brought stability, wealth and longevity.

Even if the path was the best way to an easy life.

“Fuck that” thought Red.

“Fuck the path, and fuck every one for making me walk it, this is not what I want to be”

Red, much to the disappointment of her mother was a bit of a wild child. 17 years old and on the cusp of what some might consider adulthood, but what her mother would consider far from. She wore a long crimson hooded cape, that opened wide at the front. Beneath the cape was black studded corset and tight fit leather trousers that were a dark mahogany. She did not wear a skirt like the other girls, she did not do a lot of things like the other girls.

Red and her Mother had been fighting a lot recently. From Red’s perspective everything she did was wrong in the eyes of her mother. Her mother on the other hand just wished she would be a bit more normal, wished she would listen to her advice just once. After a particularly heated argument they were close to a breaking point. Red had had enough; her mother had had enough.

“GET OUT! If you won’t listen to me then go.”

“Fine! You don’t give a shit about me anyway.”

A slam. The door crashed shut, the sound exploded in the room as if lighting had destroyed some immortal tree, the shattered remains of their fragile relationship scattered in the wind. Red’s mother slumped to the floor in the new silence and sobbed. Outside Red let out a scream that travelled through the valley, she screamed so loud that wolves howled echoing her pain.

They lived in the forest, a great sprawling metropolis of life. Trees touched the clouds, their canopies blocking the skyline, the scattered light created a floral mosaic of emerald and gold that stretched for miles. In the dusk as the sun faded its red light laid a warm blanket, as if to tuck the forest in, one final kiss before the terrors of the dark set in. Come the dawn as the sun rose over the horizon its blue hue and spring mist drowned the forest in an ethereal light, endless, timeless.

Red walked through the mist, through the mosaic, into the blanket. The warm light hit as the sun began to prepare for its nightly slumber. It reminded Red of a time, when scared of some imaginary monster, her mother would sing her softly to sleep. Only the forest sang now the trees swayed in the breeze; the rustling of leaves played their calming tune. The anger that had fueled Red moments before turned to sadness. Red added her voice to the symphony of the forest, her gentle melodic cries a choir of loneliness. The forest sang a cold vulnerable song deep into the night.

The forest had many citizens and they all heard Red’s song. The wolf listened closest. The wolf understood best. The wolf headed towards the sounds.

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