The Bright Colours of Misery [COMPLETED]

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃𝚈 -dear wilma-

Dear Wilma,

I don't even know where to start...

Papa hit mama. He hit her twice, with a chandelier. She's ̶f̶i̶n̶e̶- alive and doesn't need a doctor by the looks of it, thank god. I've been hiding in our room for the past hour, until just now when we were sure Papa had left the house, he never actually got all the way up the stairs so we were free from harm. Once we went downstairs she was unconscious, I ran to get Helga. She cried, we all cried, but mama is awake now so all should be good. I got so scared you have no idea, Frieda stopped him from doing any more, she went between them both. I've apologised to her now and I need to lie down, I'm still shaking, sorry for the messy handwriting.

Heidi.

It was raining in Berlin. That city was so goddamn grey, or at least my first impression of it was. I had travelled with Heidi's letter. I think I saw most of Germany's countryside that week. I wanted to see how Wilma was doing—but most importantly I wanted to speak with her soul adviser as Heidi had sent this rather concerning letter weeks ago and had gotten no form of reply—and I trusted Heidi enough to be sensible without my guidance.

Berlin was also crowded, really crowded compared to Heidi's hometown , which I obviously expected. It took me a while to find Wilma's apartment. It was in the west part of town, and the entrance was hidden in a sort of sketchy alleyway. When I arrived, I almost thought it was the wrong address. A woman with an almost white bob and some sort of hat pulled her keys out and opened the slim door into this strange apartment building. I followed her in and looked around and found the mailboxes.

One of them read: Wilhelmina Seide in very new looking letters compared to the other ones. Apparently she lived at the very top—which the mailbox also indicated.

I went up the stairs, The woman I had entered with had been quicker than me, I couldn't find her anywhere. On the fifth floor I was met by one little wooden door with a small sticker.

"Wilhelmina Seide" it read again, in brand new letters. I went right through it and entered a small room with wooden walls, decorated with some paintings I recognised as Heidi's. I floated through the narrow corridor until I noticed the shadow of a silhouette spreading across the slim corridor's floor and walls. I entered this small space where the shadow originated from. The woman I had seen earlier was just taking her hat off.

A few platinum blond locks escaped it, falling elegantly well above her shoulders. I recognised her as the woman who'd opened the door with her silver keys, but I wondered what on earth she was doing in Wilma's apartment. She looked up from the sink and when I saw her reflection in the mirror I froze. I would have screamed.

"Ugh, men." Wilma sighed, wiping some of her smudged lipstick with her hand and then pulling her collar down, revealing a reddish mark. She sighed again and reached into a small bag on her right. A makeup brush appeared out of it, and she simply brushed some powder over the mark with ease.

I could barely move, I did not–I could not recognise her. Nonetheless, Wilma walked out of her bathroom, floating through the corridor with elegance and ease and taking her coat off. She was wearing a lovely looking blouse, neatly tucked into a dark and rather long skirt. She looked fashionable, giving the impression that she'd really put some thought into her clothes, which she never did, or so I thought.

I followed her to the end of the corridor. A living room was an overstatement as to what I walked into. The space was very small, and had nothing but a tiny stove, a very small table and a bed that was on some sort of higher level that was barely big enough for the mattress to fit in. The whole roof was sort of slanted and its wooden surface would definitely let shards escape it. It did however look cosy, I'll give it that. I followed Wilma slowly as she grabbed a rusty looking kettle and put it over the stove, which she lit with a small match. She opened one of her small cupboards but before she could someone knocked on the door. The knock was strange, it formed a clear rhythm, was it a code?