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maisie’s favorite color was green.
when asked why, she would simply shrug, but deep down, the young girl knew exactly why the lone color stood out among all others.
green were the mountains on the model of the dinosaur sanctuary her grandpa made.
the one she would secretly use as her own play-set when iris and mr. mills weren’t around to shoo her away. she would carefully place her plastic dinosaurs around the model, always placing the tyrannosaurus rex on the highest mountain, cementing its place as the queen of maisie’s island. but sometimes she wishes she could return to this time when her love for the creatures weren’t yet tainted and corrupted by fear. when they didn’t haunt her nightmares each night and drove her to bouts of screaming in her own bed. when all she had to worry about was not getting caught by iris during another one of her antics.
green were claire’s eyes when she looked down at maisie, wrapped in a blanket with her arms around owen.
blue had just ran away into the forest surrounding the estate and maisie could’ve sworn she saw a lost look in owen’s eyes, as if the velociraptor took a piece of him when she left. it was the same feeling that had plagued her for the past few hours since she found her grandpa. lost. confused. terribly lonely. where would she go now? who would take care of her? maisie was a clone. for all she knows, she wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for some concoction in a test tube. but then a hand weaves through her hair so softly, stroking her head with such comfort. she looks up at the owner of the hand and wonders if claire can see how lost she feels and hopes, with all her heart, that the redhead would provide her with a solution to all her problems. perhaps even take her along to wherever her and owen planned on going. just please, dear god, please don’t leave her alone. but then claire, hand still stroking her head, looks down at her with a warm gaze that only, what she presumes, a mother could give and something inside maisie tells her that she wants to keep those warm eyes on her always. because it’s under claire’s gaze, with those emerald green orbs of hers, that maisie felt safest.
green was the grass on the fields surrounding owen’s cabin.
the raptor trainer and dpg leader ended up taking maisie along with them, something she’s so grateful for. and while she does miss iris, she knows that iris never let her roam the grounds of the estate, for reasons now very apparent to her. iris was not like owen, who trusted her enough to let her run around the land, exploring every nook and cranny within the perimeter. after all, both him and claire (and even maisie herself) knew that the little girl would always come back to them at the end of the day. on some days, maisie also enjoyed relaxing out on the field and with a turn of her head, she can spy claire lounging next to the trailer, laptop and phone in hand, and owen could be heard hammering away at the cabin’s rooftop. it’s on days like these, as she lays on the ground in the middle of the field, grass beneath her fingertips with sun rays beaming down on her and warming her cheeks, maisie had never felt more free.
green was the jello owen and claire would make for her after long days at school and therapy sessions that resulted in more tears than she would’ve liked.
after two months of living with owen and claire, the two decided that maisie needed structure and a sense of normalcy. her nightmares still came for her in the night and maisie figures it’s why therapy was brought up. school, however, sounded much more daunting than it should’ve. she blames iris for planting this seed. the old caretaker always told her in her earlier years that kids who went to school never came back. she realizes now it was probably to keep her from wanting to leave the walls of the estate. the thing was, going to school meant leaving owen and claire, and maisie would be lying if she said she wasn’t afraid of ever leaving them, even if it was only for a few hours. but her new guardians wanted what’s best for her, and she trusts them, wanted to make them proud but also felt guilty for making them worry so much. so she puts on a brave face and agrees. now, her schedule consists of spending the weekdays in the city with claire, attending school with weekly visits to her therapist on fridays, after which she and claire drive out to the woods and spend the weekends out at the cabin with owen. but some days are harder than most. days where kids would try to poke and prod at her to make her react because they found it weird that the new student with the accent refused to talk or interact with them. so they turned it into a game of who could make the girl talk first. but their actions only made her feel like she didn’t belong, that she was just a clone, not human, a mere experiment, oblivious to how they made her feel. it also didn’t help that maisie’s therapist insists on getting her to discuss her nightmares. it meant speaking about her fears, her worries, about being eaten by dinosaurs, being abandoned and alone. now, maisie wasn’t dumb. she knew she had to confront her problems. but all the little girl wanted was to be out at the trailer in the woods, cuddled between owen and claire as the raptor trainer hums his song for her while claire strokes her hair. but as difficult as these days are, she knows that she can always come home to a bowl of green jello waiting for her at the kitchen table as claire and owen talk to each other about their days to help her forget hers. they’re trying and she loves them for it. but she’s home, with her jello, sitting between the two people she cares for most and maisie thinks, maybe, just maybe, things really aren’t that bad.
green was maisie’s favorite color for many reasons. no one has to know what they are. but it exists in the things in her life that give her comfort and understanding and for now that's all she needs. for now, maisie couldn't ask for more.