I wanted to rebuild, but gasoline and matches is all I could afford. How unfortunate that our insurance had lapsed.

___

     Red and I had been best…enemies, slap-boxing each other since we played in basinets. I bet you can’t guess his favorite color. The answer: angry.

     Red, he had his reasons for being so colorful; he was bleeding.

     Dream used to tell him, “That temper will be the end of you”? I wonder if she knew, it would also be the end of her.

___

     My memory is a little hazy.

     Red got so upset, his vision was vibrating.

     Did he hit me over-the-head with something?

     Thwack; the last thing I heard, before it went black. I couldn’t remember what happened next; the pieces had to be put back-together again.

___

      Red had come to visit while Dream and I were arguing. She was blue and rapidly changing hue, screaming, “you went back on your word!”

As she stood shaking me, I couldn’t even recall what I promised her.

___

     Mighty, that’s how Red described himself. He had a split-personality, always getting beside himself; as if, one of him wasn’t enough.

     Red, a blast to be around when he wasn’t blowing-up, had this tick; you could tell by the way he talked if he was about to flip his switch. Always so excitable, an anxiety tidal-wave. His mind, like compressed-fire inside a cage; blazing, always radiating.

___

     Red, he had the spirit of a child, one trapped in an asylum, a smile that was violent, and terrible timing; always arriving when he shouldn’t. Everything was going well, then a little-thing changed ‘everything’.

     Dream was in danger: Red saw what his name is.

___

     Red, he was two-shades brighter than usual. I think his confidence, and consciousness had become tangled; the former overpowering the latter. He was about to explode; you could see it in his complexion, and hear it in his tone.

     The right-words stood on the tip of his tongue, but then, the wrong one’s jumped them.

___

     Someone had called Dream stupid; how foolish. Nothing lit Red’s wick quicker than a smart-mouth.

     Crack! A stiff-jab put a swift-end to their wise-cracking.    

     Red thought it would make Dream happy; it hadn’t.

     In fact, Dream suddenly took the side of her attackers.

___

      A hard-fall had left Dream trembling. She said that she’d been hit, but Red swore that he was innocent. “I was pushed,” he reasoned. Supposedly, he’d been bumped, but Dream had felt the brunt.

     How foolish of me, to believe him.  

___

     Red strained to live-up to Dreams expectations, smiling in the face of people who hated him, playing pretend.

     He hoped and he prayed, that he wouldn’t do anything to make Dream forsake him. He raged inside, and tried to hide it; but yesterday, Red blew.

___

     As I awoke, I saw my peace in pieces on the floor. Her crimson-remnants spelled vengeance in bold-lettering.

     The last words I heard Dream mutter, “I forgive you.”

___

     As I grow pale, knowing now that Red was just yellow, I remember what I promised Dream; no one would ever come between us.