Neopian Prism
The sun jostles its way through the night-darkened sky, completing the spectrum of colors in Neopia.
Dawn displays shades of roses, oranges, and then…
…the sky becomes blue, melancholic blue. Blue. Blue. Blue.
A scarcity of clouds reveals a blue sky, however the clouds are still part of the incipient day. We can't daydream without a horde of sheep-shaped clouds in the sky, just as we can't stargaze without a minimum number of stars in the ebony heaven.
Blue.
A lot of things are blue. Sapphires and peacocks are blue. Even my sweater is blue. Eyes can be blue. Sky-blue.
I can see my kacheek lashing at the waves that try to reach us from our place behind a shore rock.
The waves aren't blue.
The sea takes us for dupes. Its green water is infamous for drowning sailors and leaving ships wrecked in stories. Only children believe such stories. I am not a child. I remain inadvertent to its attacks, watching my neopet snap at its amorphous limbs, ears trembling and body crouched in the usual combat mode.
The sea is green, disgusting green. Green. Green. Green.
Blithenvy, the kacheek here with me today, used to be green. I purchased a red brush and removed the repugnant color it had been born with. Don't ask me why I selected her from the other colors. I made her. I named her Blithenvy because her color, I knew she could offer some sort of blithe. The "envy" of her name came with the leaf-green shade of her fur. I don't call her "Blithenvy" though; I've shortened it to "Blithe." She has displayed more blithe than envy, and thus only the first-half of her name has been used to address her.
Green.
Most plants are green. Envy and jealousy are, too. That's what the sea represents. See its waves trying to reach the rocks, striking the air instead of the sky? It's the manifestation of envy, and like envy, it'll take away all that it can.
It's trying to take my friend at the moment.
Her reddish-rose coat shimmers in the sun. It's a wonderful color, a combination of a variety of reds-- ruby, wine red, and even the soft tint of a pink carnation.
Oh God, she's getting too close to the crashing waves.
"Blithe, don't get too near!" I warn. I wave a royal purple Ummagine, the last color of the spectrum and my neopets favorite food, to get her attention. Blithenvy turns around.
Our trips to the beach are annual. Blithe loves the beach. Blithe loves the sea. And as she jumps from rock to rock, I admire her lithe scarlet form. The sea makes her happy and in turn, makes me happy, too.
Another wave crashes; this time between the space between she and I. I wait for the spray of seawater to settle. Blithenvy is gone.
I scurry over the rock she was standing on before the wave struck.
She is there, only dead. The water had made the algae-covered rock slippery. My kacheek had lost her balance and had fallen onto the jagged rocks some seven to eight feet below.
The blood is red, scarlet red. Red. Red. Red.
I don't see blue or green. I see red. The gray-brown rocks are speckled with her blood. And for that moment, everything else becomes red. The sun sets red. The sea that licks her wounds is red. But nothing is scarlet red. No one but Blithe is of that red.
The spectrum of colors is dead again.
The blue is gone, the green is gone, but the red is still there.
Have I ever told you how much I hate red?