Tabatha A. Yeatts



by Harry W. Yeatts Jr.

By Farrah F.
Age 12

It was early. Probably too early for me to be awake. Charmarionne would say to get rest or I would be grouchy. Like she knew anything.

No light came through my window. It was pitch black outside. Maybe Charmarionne was right…I should go to sleep. But then something flickered outside my window. It was something I hadn’t noticed before. It was a rainbow. But it wasn’t normal. It filled up almost the whole sky. And it wasn’t really an arch- it was more of an airborne diamond.

And it only consisted of two colors: Purple and green. And that’s when everything began.

~ ~ ~

It hadn’t rained that night. That was the oddest thing of all. I mean, I always thought that rainbows needed rain…right? I didn’t tell anyone about the peculiar rainbow because I was too scared of anyone thinking I was completely insane. But then things began getting really strange…and I had no idea what to do.

~ ~ ~ The next morning I woke up and all I could see was the most amazing, psychedelic mixture of purple and green I had ever seen in my life. I tried rubbing my eyes, but it didn’t go away. It just spun and swirled around, slightly changing the odd array of patterns. I began to yell for Charmarionne. As her footsteps came closer to my room, the craziness began to fade away. By the time she stood in my doorway, it was completely gone.

“What?” She said impatiently, biting into my self-esteem. I averted my eyes in shame and whispered, “Never mind.”

“Don’t yell at me for nothing Marie! I don’t appreciate your crazy antics. I’m not in a very good mood today so if you frustrate me one more time you’re not going to go to your jazz concert tomorrow night!” As she stalked away angrily, I mulled over something that she had forgotten in doling out my future punishment: I haven’t taken a jazz class in 3 years.

~ ~ ~

Just in case you haven’t noticed, my mom has a very short temper and a very bad memory. Charmarionne and I definitely don’t have a good relationship. And, well, my father and I aren’t on very good terms either. It seems like my parents only had me to take me along for the ride when they needed help with something. I’m like their little gopher.

I bet when they were thinking about having children they said to themselves, “Oh well, a kid can really be a nuisance, but you know, it would be good to get one just so it could carry all our really heavy stuff and run errands for us and drive us around.” Well, to tell you the truth, I’m really weak, hate leaving my house, and, well, I can’t drive.

I’ll tell you, it’ll be a while before I’m anything more than that little nuisance.

~ ~ ~

Charmarionne, with her beach-blonde hair and perfect body and face, decided to take me to the thrift store that morning. I really don’t like to go anywhere with her but she again threatened me with no dance performance, which of course is nonexistent, and I obliged to keep her from threatening me with anything else.

Once inside the thrift store, I noticed my vision was again fogged with the haunting purple and green color. Certain items on the old, rusting shelves were simply glowing with the pulsating hues. It was absolutely, marvelously beautiful and I couldn’t stop from looking.

“Marie! Marie! Listen to me this instant!” I tore my eyes away from the stunning display and looked towards the drab and ugly one now dangerously close to my face.

“Scour these shelves for anything and everything that includes the color Chartreuse. Hurry now! It’s my new fav!”

“What in the world is…is…Chartreuse?”

“It’s a color you stupid…dear!”

I rolled my eyes at her but did as she said and took to the shelves. I worried that if I didn’t my life would be in danger.

She would probably strangle me with Chartreuse-colored curtains.

~ ~ ~

Charmarionne is French. She has to have all the newest styles and the most "in" thing. And the worst this is, is she constantly insults Americans. I mean she married one for crying out loud! I bet if I weren’t alive she would move back to France. But I am. And then there’s always my dad to think about. You can’t forget good old Harvey.

Yeah, right.

~ ~ ~

As I searched the shelves for what Charmarionne was looking for, she sat lazily in an old antique chair that looked sure to break under her weight. Of course she didn’t help me. She didn’t even show me what Chartreuse looked like. She was sleeping. I decided to take a break from looking for a color that I guessed didn’t even exist.

Instead I examined all the items that were radiating with purple and green. I sifted through teacups, placemats, picture frames, glass jars, wooden trunks, tissue boxes, children’s toys, and piles and piles of clothes. I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for but I knew that when I saw it, I would know.

Then in somebody’s shopping cart, I saw it. It was a lady- a china figurine. It was pretty small, maybe 4 inches tall and 3 across- at the widest point, of course. The little lady looked young, perhaps 18. She looked dressed up for a masquerade, but she had forgotten her mask. Her eyes were of the brightest green while her beautiful sequined and feathery gloves and dress of the most luminous purple ever imagined. One of her hands was behind her back, as if holding a small purse, and the other held a feathered fan in front of her paper-white face. It was so beautiful and I knew I needed to have it, though I didn’t know why.

But then there was that problem…the problem that my figurine was in that person’s cart. He left his cart for a few seconds and I used the opportunity to my advantage. I jumped out from behind a creaky old shelf and snatched it, quickly slipping back into the shadows. The man didn’t notice a bit, but Charmarionne did. She had woken up just in time to witness my little crime. One of her eyebrows crept up the side of her forehead and her lips contorted quizzically. I trudged over to her resigned as she beckoned me over with her pudgy pointer finger. “Why did you take that, girl?”

“It’s mine.”



“I don’t want to hear anymore of your nonsense girl. Put it back.” I wasn’t going to give up my prize. No. I knew this lady would help me with my purple and green-colored problems when no one else would. I needed to keep it. I pulled a 5 out of my pocket and fast-walked up to the counter, purchasing my little lady hastily.

Charmarionne promptly stood up from her chair and grabbed my arm, reaching out for my purple and green destiny. She snatched it in her much-too-long pink fingernails and hefted it into her other hand, pulling it farther and farther away from me.

Suddenly I felt almost like she was taking a part of me away- like she was pulling my arm off. The pain was excruciating and I could hardly bear it. Then she dropped it- right in the middle of he thrift store.

It fell so slowly, almost in slow motion. I screamed awfully loud, almost terrifyingly loud. I scared even myself as the noise stabbed at the air unmercifully. I clutched at my throat as the lady fell closer and closer and I screamed louder and louder.

Headfirst she plunged to the dirty white and blue tiles. The second her perfect glass face glanced the tile, the floor began to swell and heave. It rippled out from her, in a circle. As the ripples ran through the thrift store, one by one, everything turned purple and green. Suddenly everything was in chaos. Shelves and people alike toppled over. But the lady still wasn’t done making her departure.

As I sat stunned on the floor, I watched her perfect body crumble. The thin feathers on her fan quickly disintegrated into dust. Her gorgeous face was crushed unmercifully and her striking purple and green dress was shattered instantly without a thought. Charmarionne had demolished this beautiful lady, and also my dreams.

All that was left of her was a pile of traumatized purple and green porcelain.

Suddenly my head felt as if it weighed perhaps 10 tons and it crashed into the floor just like my little lady.

~ ~ ~

As the old thrift store continued to suffer under the weight of the undulating floor and the piercing screams of the eccentric little girl, the roof caved in and a fire burst forth from the little china lady. Everyone found there way out except one person- the peculiar little girl lying on the floor cradling the fiery pile of glass. Marie.

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