All hail the YuBo WAVE!3. Thank you for tuning in and enjoying this year's celebration. You won't be disappointed!
Entry #1
I wrote this while I was at work, so it may sound weird and random…but I figured this year's WAVE needed stories of every genre.
Disclaimer: Ja and I own the WAVE- Nothing else.
-The Patient and The Wall-
When you're locked in a cell, blindfolded and waiting to die, the only thing left to do is have a conversation with the walls.
The world was black; colors were indulgences left for the imagination as it clung to an unstable thought of sanity. The real world was painted with colors. The inside of his eyelids, however, was black. He could remember color; it was not vain to look into your own gray eyes and acknowledge the rare beauty of them. His hair, although the same gray, was neutral and ugly, matted and filthy. He never took in sunlight but he sorely wished he did.
Even the white of his room would surely be appealing. The only color worth remember though was red. The crimson shades, hews, blood, dripping, stains, patterns, smears…
''I wish I could see something beautiful again…''
The echo was faint but from across the hall, the wall answered.
''I'm beautiful…I have blue eyes…and red hair. The contrast is heightened by my pale skin.''
''That sounds nice…''
''I know you'd want me, wouldn't you?''
''Only if you could settle for someone as plain as me…lifeless gray eyes and gray hair.''
''I like my men older.''
''Stress brought on the grays – trial after trial. Doctors prodding, questioning – drugs, lies…''
''How scandalous.''
There was a laugh. It vibrated.
The patient hummed his content until the wall began to echo its thoughts through the empty corridors of their dungeon.
''For how many years now have we had this dead conversation?''
''It's not going to end until one of us is silenced…''
''May it go on forever then, patient.''
''Do you love me that much, wall?''
There was silence.
The answer was murmured so low that the other walls could not reverberate the message.
The indefinite silence that both the patient and the wall dreaded arrived one morning in the form of an injection. The wall's tongue went numb, but he asked, with a dead smile if he could see the patient, across the hall. The doctors granted his wish.
The blindfold was removed and the world of the living became dead again. However, the first sight visible to the patient was death. Red and death. The wall, secured to his death chair, stared up at the blurry gray haze before him, with fading blue eyes, as he said, finally,
''Yes''
Although the world was beautiful again and the patient let his smile be seen, his malice remained hidden. He could do it all over again – but there was no point. His life was over, now. He need only bite into his own wrists and imagine the crimson flows of the past.
Not only was blood red, it was warm.
-EndE-
Just a little side note, the ''crimson shades, hews…'' is not a mistake. It's a pun on hues, which goes with shades, but since hews are cuts and slashes, it serves as a transition into the continuous rambles. You need to cut, to get blood…
Phodophobia is a fear of the color red, andChromophobia (Chromatophobia) is a fear of colors in general. What I was getting at was the opposite, in case anyone was wondering. The Patient (Boris) was too stimulated by color to the point where it overwhelmed him. I studied up on the color wheel and all the meanings of red, but I felt that they were unnecessary to the story. This is basic – you're only getting the bear minimum of everything; hence the lack of detail and elaboration.