Colors

Juliet Davies has a good job, a loving family, and a fancy apartment. One day she wakes up, unable to see the colors she used to see, and realizes, that she has nothing left to live for.

”Everything is gray, I can’t see colors anymore.”



The day had started, just like all her other days. The alarm went off at 7.10am, she hit snooze for ten minutes, nurturing the feel of the cool sheets against her near naked form. Then, once her time was up she climbed out of bed, stretched thoroughly and skipped to her bathroom. Toilet, shower, teeth. Just like all other days, nothing was new, or out of the ordinary.

Her coffee tasted the same, and her clothes were the same. She drove the same route to work, she saw the same people, she made the same success. She received the usual message from her brother, the one he left her every morning so that she’d be cheered up at lunch and not dread the rest of her day at work. It was an ordinary day… except it wasn’t.

When Juliet Davies stepped though the door to her fancy apartment after work, she realized why the day had been so numb. Why she’d failed to smile with her green eyes all day, why her dirt blonde hair seemed lifeless, and why she just didn’t feel anything. With her new realization, she walked towards her bedroom, after tossing the keys on her marble kitchen counter. She shed her shoes and jacket while she was walking, discarding them on the floor as she went. Her hair was suddenly whirling around her shoulders as she took out the clip that held it in place.

She took breaths of determination as she headed towards her private bathroom, also supplied with marble counters. Her reflection looked back at her from behind the glass, her usually beautiful facial features completely blank. She would’ve offered the image a smile, but she didn’t feel like smiling. Turning, she glanced around the bathroom, taking in the expensive features, which had once felt so important to her. Juliet let out a sigh, and turned the shower on.


Careful, careful. She buttoned the vest slowly, making sure the fabric was smooth against her body, refusing it to wrinkle even the tiniest bit. Her hair was clean, hanging around her face, dry only because she’d used the hairdryer longer than usual. She’d spent a good amount of time, brushing it out and drying it perfectly, not wanting a single hair out of place. Her black dress fit perfectly, and the purple ballet shoes were comfortable on her feet; but more importantly they matched the color of her vest and it made her eyes stand out.

After looking herself over one last time, Juliet walked to her liquor cabinet, which was supplied with fancy whisky and bottles with clear content. Not bothering with a glass, she grabbed her Macallan by the neck; its content so expensive she never could’ve imagined she’d even open it. And yet, within minutes she’d ripped it opened like it was a bottle of cheap vodka from the grocery store.

She didn’t have to go back to the bathroom for the pills; she’d already arranged them perfectly on the countertop, lining them up in even rows. She took them one by one, washing them down with her single malt, taking her time. She gagged with every swallow, unaccustomed to drinking strong alcohol, but forcing herself to do it anyway.

When she was done, her head had started buzzing, and she blinked, trying to remove the blur from her sight. Shaking her head, she stumbled over to the couch, bringing the bottle with her, taking a swig or two before falling into a seated position on the cushions. The bottle slipped out of her grasp, and her stomach felt strange. She coughed, once, twice, and she felt her body trying to reject what she’d consumed, but she fought it. She refused to let anything come up. She was still trying not to vomit as the room around her faded.



“So why did you try to kill yourself?”

Juliet groaned and hid her face in her hands. They’d asked her the same question every damn day that she’d been there. For six weeks, since her attempt, they’d tried to get her to explain. “Because I wanted to die,” was her usual response. But then of course came the follow up question; “why did you want to die?”

The doctor in front of her stopped writing and sighed. He was feeling helpless, she was sure; after all it couldn’t be easy dealing with a patient with no answers. But it was true; she wanted to die, because she wanted to die. Why did it have to make sense?

Dr. Kaplan’s brown eyes studied Juliet carefully. He’d asked her to call him David, but even in her mind she refused to do that. He wasn’t her friend, she hadn’t chosen to know him, so she wouldn’t call him by his first name. Under his gaze she felt uncomfortable, and she started fidgeting with her hands. Clasping them, unclasping them, playing with the hem of her plain white wife beater, pulling at it slightly, releasing it, clasping her hands together again. She turned her attention back towards the doctor, and took a deep breath.

“Everything is gray, I can’t see colors anymore.” There, she said it, it was out there. She thought he’d make notes, but instead he shifted in his chair, pulling one leg up across the other.

“What do you mean?” he asked slowly, his warm voice soothing Juliet’s anxiety.

“When I look at people, I see their colors-” she held a hand up to stop the question that so nearly fell from his lips “-no I don’t mean it like that.” Her voice was firm. “I mean that when I look at people, I associate them with a color.”

He raised his eyebrows, and she scratched the back of her head as she tried to find the right words to explain it properly. He nodded at her to continue, and she clasped her hands together again in her lap.

“Well, my brother was green,” she began. “Because green is the color of leaves, and kiwi, apples, Christmas trees and my eyes. Things I like. He was green, is all.”

“Green is a nice color,” Dr. Kaplan agreed. He jotted a few things down, and smiled at her, to encourage her to tell him more. It was the first time he’d had a breakthrough with her, ever since she’d first arrived she’d refused to elaborate on why exactly she didn’t want to live, or why she was depressed.

“Now there’s nothing. Everyone’s just gray, and I didn’t want to live in a world where no one was a color anymore.”



Every session, Juliet opened up more and more. She participated in group therapy, giving advice to the friends she’d made, she was taken off suicide watch (when she first arrived, she tried to steal pills to finish what she’d started, and was then put on suicide watch until further notice) and she was given more privileges. She talked to Dr. Kaplan every day, sharing more and more about herself, and showing him how she used to see the world.

He was amazed at what she said, and with the passion she talked of simple things such as the beach, the sky, walks in the park, and your hair dripping with rain after being surprised by a storm on a day out. She really saw the world with different eyes, and he looked forward to hearing about her days, her memories, and her hopes. He knew he was growing dangerously attached, but he couldn’t hand her over to any of the other counselors; he needed their sessions just as much as she did.

After six months, he knew there was nothing more he could give her, and he sighed as he paced his cluttered office; waiting for her to show up for their daily session. A knock on the door stopped him in his tracks, and he approached the door, opening it quickly. There she was, green eyes shimmering, hair flowing around her face, and a smile tugging at her lips. It’d taken her two months before she finally smiled, and now it seemed she couldn’t stop.

He stepped aside, allowing her to enter, and motioned for her to sit down before he took his place in his own chair. His lips formed a smile, as he tried to find the right words.

“Juliet, you know there’s nothing else I can do for you.” He watched her smile falter, and his heart sank. She turned her eyes away, and the tiniest wrinkle formed between her eyebrows.

“I know,” she admitted. He was right of course, she was fine, she didn’t feel depressed anymore. She still didn’t see colors, but she might never see them again.

“You’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Juliet repeated again. She allowed her eyes to meet his, and she offered a small smile.



Breathing deeply, Juliet closed her eyes and enjoyed the salty smell. The wind caressed her skin as she smiled and tipped her head backwards. She’d missed the ocean, and the feelings it gave her. The feelings of being complete, of being free, like nothing in the world could harm her.

Opening her eyes, she let out a content smile as she dug her bare feet deeper into the wet sand. The water licked at her feet, refusing them to stay hidden underneath the sand, and she let out a laugh. Her flowery dress danced around her, as a gust of wind tossed her hair around wildly.

Never before had something so simple made her feel so happy. Looking forward, she watched the sun kiss the ocean, as the sky behind it glared in an angry orange, as if trying to force the sun to stay up just a little longer.

She felt someone next to her, but she didn’t have to turn her head to know who had joined her in the brim of the water.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone light as she relished in the feel of the sun on her face.

“That place had nothing left to give me either,” he replied. She smiled again, and threw a glance in his direction, before again focusing in front of her.

“Do you want to know what I see?”

“Yes.”

“Blue.” Her eyes were no longer watching the scene in front of her. Her smile grew wider when his hand wrapped around her delicate fingers.

“Blue is a nice color.”

Reviews

[Tala]

Wow, I really love it, sort of poetic, and different but normal at the same time. just wow.