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  • Writer's pictureLeslie Vargas

The Blue Girl

Updated: Aug 13, 2022

There are three women I have given my complete trust to. The first is my mother who, through a simple blood pact, dedicated her life to mine. The second is my maternal grandmother who earned my devotion through unexplainable acts of kindness. The third was The Blue Girl.

The day I met her was very warm and humid. She was hiding from me around tangled grassy corners. Just when I got close enough to have an honest conversation with her, she would disappear. The air carried her hushed whispers in a language only the stars could decipher. Around me were towering walls of vines and leaves, obscuring all but slivers of the sky. Wind chimes rang to my right leading me to a small circular oasis in the midst of this maze. The Blue Girl sat with her long legs in the pond, laughing at things I would never understand. I approached her very slowly as if one loud and terrible sound would scare her away forever. The grass flattened under my weight as I sat down next to her. She was still laughing as she looked over at me with eyes that crinkled a bit at the corners when she smiled. The Blue Girl was not very blue. She was golden.

There were no words shared between us, so we sat and watched the little fish in the pond swimming around her legs. My mouth curved up to the sound of bubbles popping as they played. Every once and a while she would laugh her windchime laugh. It sounded like tinkling bells – she sounded like music. After a while, she sat up and huffed like time itself was to blame for passing. With a determined look, The Blue Girl stood and started making her way to three buckets of paint I hadn’t noticed before. I stood and followed her as she opened all three cans. She had yellow, blue, and white paint. I looked at her in confusion as she picked up a paintbrush and started to fling the blue paint in the air. It was getting on everything. The grassy area was now covered in blue zebra stripes. She seemed so sure of what she was doing. Who was I to stop her? Next, she picked up the yellow paint and made large arching motions with the brush. I was so absorbed by her every action that it took me a while to notice I was covered in paint. I didn’t really mind. The Blue Girl had already moved on to the white bucket. She danced in endless circles, coating every inch of us before she stopped. She looked at me as she panted, and sweat glistened on her golden skin. Then she plopped down on the ground. I laid down next to her in silent wonder. The Blue girl captivated me in a matter of moments with the simple movements of her body. When her breaths started to come a bit more steady, I dared to speak to her.

“What was that?”

In her lyrical voice, she responded with words I would hold with me until the day I parted from this earthly plane.

“I was painting the sun and the sky, for you.”

I do not remember much of what happened after that. Her skin lost its shimmery color. It developed a bluish hue. Her laugh forgot its musical quality and she stopped painting things for me. She changed in confusing and mysterious ways. Hushed whispers in my mind told me she would never be herself again. We lost each other in that maze thousands of times before. Sometimes it’s exciting to get lost when you know someone will always come looking. I never found that oasis again. I never even dared to look up at the sky. A painful reminder of a dead girl who I kept alive with my beating heart. A part of me thinks she found her way out a long time ago. I am left to trudge through the past as if I could change it. As if this magnetic chaos could have played out any other way. Today I decided I would allow myself to leave the maze. Memories were not enough to make me stay. I have only ever trusted three women in my life. The blue girl was one of them.

Edited by: Cecilia Innis

Photo Cover Credit: Ava Pauline Emilione

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