Melbourne, Australia.
Around 11'ock in the morning.
Red-haired,
Autumn-colored eyes,
Vanilla-scented lips,
Perfect pointed nose,
Filipino skin color,
Her name is Aia, the village wallflower. She's always wearing a gray hood, tight pants, and a pair of black boots. She's homeschooled since then and part of her routine is to go every sunrise at the swing to just stared how the sky change its colors. One day, she was asked, "What is your favorite color?", she didn't answered. Maybe she was not in the mood or maybe she loves it all that's why she can't choose.
She was losing all her money on buying stationary, and papers, papers, papers. She is amazing at expressing herself through writing, through the help of papers. Never did they know, since she turned ten, every night before she sleeps, this village wallflower lay down, think of everything that happened in that day and put them in her papers. She's making a book about her life, how fascinated she is on what can people do and how the world response to it. She's writing a journal in a sorted ways, there is for sad stories and other emotions. Apparently, it is the book for mad stories that can tell her story. She used to draw a portrait of a person who made her day, whether it is miserable or pretty remarkable. She's painting the sky, documenting it. Thinking of the moon glow made her feel calm, forget everything; made her want to live another day. Everyday she suffers, she sings that she want to get out of this world, be totally gone. But the moon, the stars, everything that is surrounded by darkness inspired her to breathe and fight and of course, shine her own color-- orange, autumn. It is her favorite season since she's stunned at everything that is dying beautifully--- still hoping to bloom at spring season. It is just one thing that she's fearing the most, she's anxious that maybe one night she's not going to be able to write again because she'll probably lose her sight anytime due to heart disorder.
Story