MATILDA (A Series of Unfortunate Events)

CHAPTER 12: GALLERY OF HARROWING COLOURS

Immediately, Klaus and Violet dove into action; suggesting plans and ideas that could solve the current situation. Unbeknownst to the children, Matilda was frantically gesturing to catch their attention, the two caught in there expanding brainstorm. Making noise from behind the gag finally captured their attention. The coarse, scratchy material across her mouth dug cruelly into her face, and without a doubt, would resemble a joker like character once she was freed, with sawing, red marks falsifying a tremendous grin. The stark red contrast against Matildas light skin would draw attention to her worn and tired face, even at the mere age that she is. Perhaps, she thought bitterly, it could match the plentiful pink scars and the purple bruises that will rise from the bars. The elder Baudelaire's turned to Matilda confused. After a short sigh of reprieve, Matilda made a claw shape with her hand pointing to the makeshift grappling hook and gestured to the cage. Violet's eyes lit up in recognition of what the girl was attempting to convey.

"Klaus, we have a backup plan." Grinning slightly towards her brother she immediately got to work. "Grab the grappling hook," Violet instructed Klaus as she observed the gate and the cages. Gazing at Matilda, she asked, "How am I to get it onto the cage? I can't reach."

Glancing around briefly, Matilda shifted her weight and forced her arms under herself, as they were tied behind her, to be more accessible to her task. As her limbs squeezed within the cage, Matildas mouth opened around the gag in a silent cry of agony. The Baudelaire's gaped at the sight and slightly winced due to the severe pain they were witnessing. Halting halfway through, Matilda released a series of determined, puffs of hair before following through. Taking a quick moment of breath before Matilda started pulling at the cage bars without a single glance to the children around her. Her constant weight against the bars caused them to warp slightly, so, by grabbing two adjacent bars, facing Violet, with each hand, Matilda used all her remaining strength and available movement to pry to bars apart just wide enough for her hand to slip through. Pausing for a short, laboured breath, she shook her hands out. Turning her head around, she forced the bars closest to Sunny open slightly. Grunting with the effort, she pulled back her hands to assess the damage: the rusting of the bars caused minimal cuts and upon her shaking hands were more red lines to add to her collection. A gallery of harrowing colours to call her own. Exertion radiated from her vibrating limbs and weary eyes, her hands shaking in sheer fatigue. Twisting to meet Violet and Klaus' eyes, they held shock, wide, but conveyed concern with the slight furrowing of their brows. Much too exhausted to return a comforting look, Matilda peered her hands through the wrenched bars and gestured for the hook. Klaus numbly passed the contraption to the girl as Violet secured the other end with chairs, the bookcase and an odd length of material, patterned with puppies on a swing. Grabbing the hook, Matilda passed it through her own cage before hooking it firmly on Sunny's cage. The elder children stood in awe of the outwardly helpless girl that continued to pleasantly surprise them with her genius, not unlike their own.

Footsteps heard on the oncoming staircase caused the children to scurry into unsuspecting positions.

"Now if he dropped Sunny from the tower-" Klaus began.

"Certainly would." Interrupted Count Olaf as he emerged from the trap door. "Come orphans, its time for the event," coyly waving the hourglass and stepping up further to reveal his ghastly suit. Gold embellishments on the jacket and the brown fur coat and the frilly dress shirt and and the morose, moth-eaten bowtie evoked an amateur and sloppy image. "My associate here," Hook-man appeared through the hatch with an awkward yet menacing 'hello, good to see you again,' "Will stay with your sister, and we will be in constant contact with the use of these walkie-talkies," the said communicator uttered in a sing-song tone. "If anything goes wrong during tonight's performance, your sister will be dropped to her death." Violet and Klaus successfully hid their glint of amusement at the statement with the hidden knowledge of their plan, Matilda however, grew a smirk, eerily familiar, masked by the children in front of her. Offering with a beckoning gesture, the Count crudely summons with "Shall we?"

Returning to look at the cages, Violet reaches longingly towards her sister, "We'll be back soon, Sunny." Desperation and concern filling their eyes as their brows slope. "Don't worry." Klaus adds. Sunny returned with a short babble that Matilda was becoming more fluent in understanding, and she let out a brief chuckle at the infants words: 'Yeah right.' Barely a chuckle, Matilda more so released a quiet chuff of air absorbed by the gag. With a sigh and a "Come on," Hook Guy hauled Violet and Klaus out of the tower room.

Attempting to be sinister, Hook-guy began breathing heavily before throwing a questioning glance to Sunny. Oblivious to the hook hidden on the cages, the henchman took a seat in the rickety, single chair in the tower room. The dark of the night and the speckling stars swarmed the environment. The needy black hand of sleep becoming more determined to pull Matilda under, despite the drooping of her head followed by a violent upwards jerk, Matilda was helpless to the pull. Many days of staying awake in the cage, reaping its consequences. As the girl slipped into an unwilling slumber, she faintly heard Hook-Guy sigh in boredom and offer Sunny a game of poker. Unlike most, Matilda's breath did not even and deepen as she succumbed, her breath continuously shallow, her breathing while awake adopted in her unconscious state, aware and alert of any movement or danger.

The night dragged on, with the diabolical play set against the glistening sky, a great juxtaposition of intent. Above, beauty smeared across the sky, constellations stoic against the deep abyss that calls to humans on earth, luring them into their own sense of darkness and blankness. Within the theatre, a production of great wickedness performs in front of an unsuspecting crowd: as Sylvia Plath would satirise, the "peanut-crunching crowd." As Sunny won her way to freedom and Violet and Klaus enacted their incredibly intelligent plan, Matilda, despite the uncomfortable position, created a picturesque image. Upon a gothic house, a small girl curled, peacefully asleep, in a bird cage that faintly gleams in the cosmic light.

A/N

Hiya

I'm back! I've just finished school and am hoping to do more writing in the near future :)

Thankyou, my lovelies, for all your support and for reading my work!

(lol, at one point, I will go back and edit some of the earlier chapters)