She was always happy.
Always. Other people, them, they were always getting angry, or crying, or breaking down, red and white and brown all over like a children's riddle. She didn't like them like that – they were ugly, small things, not bugs or animals – animals at least had the sense to run, they didn't plead, they were smart, all instinct – she didn't want to be like them, she would show them how to be.
That's it, she was leading by example. She dressed like a clown, all colours and no sense but everywhere shiny and happy. Green was good, green didn't scare people like red (she liked red, she didn't know why people started screaming when they saw it), green was like growing things, people liked those. Green feathers, she had fake wings all over the place, so many that she could almost fly for real – and she helped other people fly, to, that's what all children wanted, Mommy, I want to fly like a bird. She made them fly, she made them happy, and after the screaming stopped (because of all the red, people and red, they got so weird with it) but before they stopped moving she could see it, she could see that they were flying. It was beautiful.
But when they flew, they flew away from her. She was making them happy, and she was happy, of course she was always happy, but the birdies went away and she was alone again. She needed someone like her, someone with fake wings, someone that couldn't fly.
She looked, she looked everywhere for him, she wanted to help him. Even from far away he tasted thick and sweet like darkness. She didn't care if he would play with her or not – she just needed him to be, a black sun to shine light on her as she showed him her red and her green. He would love red, she knew, he wouldn't be scared at all. It was okay if he wasn't a person, she didn't need those, all she needed was to hold him in her hand and know she was strong and she was needed.
But then she couldn't taste the darkness anymore, it was gone. She was still happy, she was always happy – she was happy as she cried, she was happy as she screamed at no one and happy as she let loose birds from their cages, one by one or all at once. The darkness was a lie, wasn't something like her that couldn't fly properly, it had gone just like the others, and she was better without it.
Her face was a mess of green and purple streaks when he happened by her cage, not freeing, just looking. He was bright, sparkly, but he smelled too sweet for light. She screamed at him, telling him to go away, but when he left she chased after him, pleading, begging him not to leave. She said she'd kill him if he left.
He laughed then, but it wasn't happy, he wasn't happy, he was lying with his laugh and his bright colour and in that moment she loved him.