Colorblind
It's quite a shame to know her colorful pallet was sitting on her desk untouched.
It's quite a pity to know, she didn't know much...
I've only seen white all my life. The candles of a cake, the white clouds in the sky, The lights in a hospital, the color of pills, the white hair on my brush, the color of paper and the color of this room. My mirror only serves to reflect the placid walls and my porcelain skin. A "china doll" I've heard gossiping nurses murmur. My doctor unlocked the door and handed me a gift, from the foundation supporting me. It was a teddy bear he said, bleached by time. Its eyes have lost its color, revealing beady white eyes reflecting my lifeless existence. A thin piece of thread hung out of the seam of its back and as I dangled the bear by it the body was slowly ripped open and white stuffing came out of it. It was the strangest thing I've ever seen. I was afraid at that moment; is everything white, white inside too? I glared at the mirror, mocking me with the reflection of my faded complexion. Glaring, my eyes were tired and drained of any color. My fingers twitched to a fist and snapped at the looking-glass. The shattered twinkling of the misshaped stars did not comfort me, but the pain following short did. Cringing in incidentally glanced upon a shard. I held up the sharp wedge to me face. Slowly I squeezed it till it succumbed between my ebony fingers. A strike of thunder bolted up from my hands as my brain screamed to let it go. A trickle of red flowed freely down my arm and dripped casually to the floor. I was so full of euphoria; I wasn't made of white stuffing! I danced around in joy as my gold locks caught fire. My hands spread the inferno glory to my face to feel the reality of it but it began to close up. It didn't take much effort to find another piece of the scattered mess of a mirror. I pressed it hard against my purple veins and soon enough my flint had ignited another fire. I smeared the fiery mess over all the paper I could find. Soon the papers ran out but the walls were eager to know of this bizarre jubilee. Her pencils and paint could no longer offer her the ecstasy she craved or the sanity she always wanted back. No, as her body began to incline from exhaustion her world became one big slur. She's discovered so many things her head fell from sheer weight of memory. What she didn't know was that she herself would run out but perhaps a ray of mercy banished her sanity long before her paint dried out. Even though the sky has been chained and confined only to her memories, the nurses giggled at her ludicrous sky imitation. After all, skies were never meant for the color blind.