Everything in his mind was considered strange to most people. Then again, they didn't know how his mind worked. They couldn't understand originality if it came up and smacked them in the face. They lacked originality, he had told himself. He was unique. And more and more, that seemed to be something that was frowned upon. Since when was creativity a bad thing?
So many questions, yet not enough answers. Reality didn't understand him. Reality couldn't handle him. So in more occasions than one, he had retreated to a place that he knew would accept him.
He called his world "The Imag-I-Nation". Strange to say the least, but it was his creation, so what did he care what others though of it? It was his own unusual baby. He had brought it to life.

He was his own ruler. His own king.

But he couldn't just spend every waking moment of his life sitting on that imaginary throne. Especially not after what he saw that one day.
His world possessed a sepia tint to it. The sky, leaves, and sunlight were a bright beige color. Everything in sight was a tannish, off-brown. Everything was that color. Normally, you wouldn't notice something unusual in a world of one shade. But his mind was special, obviously. It was his world; nothing could pass by without his keen gaze catching eye at some point or other.
But what was most unusual was the fact that it wasn't trying to slide past him unnoticed. It wanted to be seen by him. As if it was presenting a sign of sorts.
One thing was for sure, it was perfectly visible. And it wanted to be that way.

Jeff Hardy was not alone anymore.