She was a quiet girl. Her green eyes spoke more than words. Her curly, unruly red hair was part of her personality. She was the only child in the village and was as lonely as a fisherman.
Violet lived with her grandma in a small wooden cottage, painted all white. Every morning she would wake up to a bowl of oatmeal and a nice cup of tea or hot cocoa. Grandma taught her many useful skills like knitting, woodworking and baking. They were each other’s treasure. Grandma had helped Violet build the little tree house in the woods, using up old bits of drift wood. It was her favorite place in the world, from where she could observe her kingdom quietly. ‘Princess of the Woods’, that’s what grandma always called her.
One glorious winter day, when snow was falling ever so gently over the naked trees, Violet met a boy. She was collecting pine cones when she saw him, the boy with dark eyes and awkward hat. He was looking up, sticking his tongue out so he could taste the tiny snowflakes that kept falling. Violet stood there a while, almost hypnotized at the first sight of someone her own age. Benjamin was his name; he was the son of a traveler. He noticed someone watching him, turned and looked straight at Violet without blinking for a while. Then he smiled. A big honest smile. She smiled back, timidly. He looked at the pine cones in her hands and started gathering some as well, following Violet’s every move.
With time, they became inseparable.
this is part of a short story i wrote a little over a year ago. it will be featured on a small zine i’ve been working on since then.