The Seven: Origins

{Dahlia}

My shyness was getting me nowhere. It was not going to help me fit in, ever. I had accepted it.

I huffed, causing my blue bangs to flare up, no doubt freaking people out by revealing my yellow eyes. I sighed.

College was supposed to be different, according to my adopted mother, Nancy. She had assured me it'd be better than high school.

She was wrong. It didn't matter what age I was. People were always going to look at me like I was a freak.

I had finished it though, just to please her. She had struggled to get me that far. The least I could do was accept her kindness.

Elementary school had been easy. In the second grade, I had been asked about my hair and eyes repeatedly. But I wasn't the only child with odd hair and eyes in class. There had been a girl with curly yellow and black hair and big purple eyes. She had defended me when I was getting picked on.

Her name had started with...a K? Yeah. I remember it was strange for a girl's name.

We got put in seperate classes and I never saw her again. It made me sad because she was the closest thing I had to a real friend.

Since then, I've been on my own, friend-wise. Junior high was harder and high school was traumatizing.

My shyness, as well as my kindness, was an easy target. Girls played pranks on me. Guys strung me along, hoping to be the first guy to sleep with a blue-haired, yellow-eyed girl. I knew better, at least with guys.

My only vice was music and singing. I supposedly could hypnotize anyone with my voice. I could play the piano, ukulele, and the acoustic guitar. I often turned to my ukulele when I was sad.

It's sweet soft sounds took me to.better places. It helped me dream of somewhere I belonged. I often had the same dream of a rainbow-haired woman but all I could remember when I woke was the back of her head.

But, now here I am, all alone in this apartment with my instruments and no one to play them for.

Twenty-five years old and I was alone. I had no real family, no friends. I had nothing of real meaning in my life, aside from God.

I could never end my life though. I still felt like I had a purpose, as well as the fact that suicide is a sin. I wanted to put all of my hope and faith in God until he gave me a sign or direction.

I played my ukulele and then drifted off to sleep. The dream of the woman came again. She was in a huge beautiful garden, running barefoot and laughing merrily. She was young, no doubt.

But, what caught my attention was the herd if little girls she was chasing after. They were all small, no more than two years old. Each one of them had different hair colors and hair styles. I noticed that each color on their heads was accounted for on hers, swirling together in beautiful locks that bounced with her every step.

One color was missing amongst the girls I was seeing, however. Blue was the only color I didn't see on any of the children, until I looked at my own hair, hanging down my shoulders.

That was when I recognized the girl with curly yellow and black hair. All I saw was the backs of their heads but I knew and then I knew her name.

I woke up, panting. The dream was lost now. I could not even remember dreaming. I sighed and tossed over on the bed. I closed my eyes and tried to keep the tears from escaping onto my pillow.

I stayed in bed for a few days. It's not like anyone was missing me. Maybe my boss was getting mad that I wasn't showing up for work, but that's about it.

Three days later, I strummed a sad song on my ukulele and then I started singing. But right when I stopped, a beautiful male voice picked up where I had left off. I froze.

The knock on my door woke me from my daze. I opened it cautiously and gasped at the gorgeous figure before me.

A tall, pale and handsome young man smiled softly at me. He had bold blue hair and sun-yellow eyes. I tried to smile back and I automatically let him in, stumbling over my own clumsy feet. He was a stranger but so familiar that I knew in my heart that he wouldn't hurt me.

"Dahlia..." he began.

"Daniel." I stated. It wasn't a question. That was his name. I could tell by the radiant smile he granted in return to the sound of his name.

He held his hand out and I was flooded with childhood memories as we touched. He placed an envelope in my hand. I took it, my eyes still on him. He motioned for me to open the envelope and I hesitated.

I looked down at the envelope and felt butterflies let loose in my stomach. I opened it with shaky hands and read the letter, smiling and crying at the same time at how mysteriously God works.