It cannot be happening. It cannot. I will not believe it. I refuse to believe it. But the colors tell me differently. It is the Bad Color. I never really believed that it was bad, for it is inside all of us is it not? It cannot be that bad. But it is. Oh, how it is so horrible. I hate the Bad Color. I love the Bad Color. I love sunshine, I love living… I love Lucius Hunt. Why, Noah? Why did you do that to him? I love him. I love him so much. Is that why you stabbed him? Because I loved him? Or did you stab him because he loves me? I will never know. For I cannot speak to you again. For I fear that I may do horrible things to you. I have already hit you. And you are stuck in the quiet room. I still do not think you have suffered enough.

I listen to myself. How horrid I have become. I rock faster. I slow down. I like this rocking chair. It calms me. I feel less hatred. I feel less worried. I turn my head so that the sun warms my cheeks. How I wish I could see the sun. I can see its color, though. It is gold. A beautiful gold. But not as beautiful as Lucius' color. I am brought back to that moment. He was so cold. So very cold. He was too quiet. But what scared me the most was his color. I couldn't see it. Not even a tiny sliver.

A hand brings me back to reality. My father's hand. A rough hand. I wait for him to speak. "He is gravely injured." I knew that already. "He may not make it through the night." I knew that too. "We do not have the medicines to heal him." Will you tell me the tings I have always known? Will you leave me here to wonder whether or not you are hiding something from me? Will you tell me that I should find another? It seems as though he reads my thoughts.

"I can't tell you anymore than that. Oh how I wish I could redo things…. You should change out of those clothes. They will bring back luck."

I stand from this rocking chair. "Will they Papa? Will they really bring bad luck? Because so far I have had no bad luck. And no Papa. I will not change. What if he dies Papa? What will I have of him that will be mine? How will I live Papa, if he is to die? Answer me this Papa." I turn. I walk off the porch. I am going to see Lucius. I feel people watch me as I walk with the Bad Color. It is not the Bad Color. It is HIS color.

I'm not sure I like how this turned out. But oh, well. This is the last chapterin my mini-series. Review!