Red.

Revlon has a shade of nail color called Valentine, though it looks the color of blood. There’s also Vixen, the deeper and darker cousin of Valentine. And their lipstick? Fire and Ice.

Red.

It’s always covering the lips or the nails of strong women in literature. In The House on Mango Street, Esperanza says, “In the movies there is always one with red red lips who is beautiful and cruel. She is the one who drives the men crazy and laughs them all away. Her power is her own. She will not give it away.” And in Holes, the Warden removes from her make-up bag a small bottle of red nail polish containing rattlesnake venom. Harmless when dry, but poisonous when wet. She slowly paints five nails in red polish, then smacks Mr. Sir across the face, watching in satisfaction as he writhes in pain.

Red.

In sixth grade, Ms. Adamson had the most beautiful set of perfectly-manicured red nails. I admired them as one would point to a sentence on my paper. I’d dreamily stare as another would point at a word on the chalkboard. I’d lose myself in the magnetism that drew my eyes toward those long, square, red nails.

Red.

I wanted to be like Ms. Adamson. Someday I would have those perfectly-manicured, long, square red nails. Someday I would be the one to draw in a sea of eyes with the point of a finger. I would be the one who is beautiful and cruel.