Lost Colors

Losing everything, only to gain it back for only a moment is painful. Credit to the original artist of the photo I used in this : Yuumei she has really great art.

Vibrance has disappeared from my life, leaving behind a world of utter monochrome.

The bright orange hues of the sunset slowly faded away in a muted tone of black and white.

It is now night. My feet padded along the wooden floors of the cottage. Insomnia plagued me and I pondered the events that had caused me to suffer.

I wondered how it would have been had I been born ordinary. I wondered how it would have been had I chose not to go.

I stood up, and went back inside. The night had gone deep and I struggled to make myself fall asleep�"only-to-fail.

Opening the door of a storeroom, I entered, just like how I always do every night at the very same time. Eyes stare back at me through the canvas, unpainted eyes with an emptiness that clawed out to my heart.

“Perhaps you are also alone?” I asked the man. He was the same age as me and was my final customer.

Of course, the young man doesn’t reply. I stare back at his eyes and reach out to a shelf. Grabbing a can and a paintbrush�"the can which I know to be the color of blue�"I observed the painting.

Making up my mind, I dipped the brush into the can and stepped forward, moonlight showing me where to complete the piece that I had made. I want to capture his expression once again, his expression which was a sad melancholic smile that felt as if he was a bird trapped in a cage.

I couldn’t.

Thus I placed the can on the floor, resisting the urge to lose control. I rested-on-the-canvas.

Closing my eyes, I let myself get swallowed into a world that I wished exists. A vibrant garden, with hues of red to violet. Birds chirping and the soft flow of a distant fountain.

I glance up to see the melancholy-filled blue. He stares down at me, holding out a hand to help me up.

I was in that dream again…

“Thanks,” he says, smiling, as I stood up awkwardly.

I give him a smile in return and replies, “You’re welcome…”

He takes my hand and I return to a paradise that I know I will forget once I wake up. All day, we chatted, and at the end I always wonder… “Why can’t I remain here?”

To which he replies, “For I live in the realm of your paintings and you live in your own realm. Even still, I can see the world where-you-came-from,” he then continues, gesturing towards a blank space of white. I would widen my eyes and from there I shall wake up.

But tonight is different. Tonight, I do not wake up. I stare at him in confusion. As I was about to ask what is happening, he interjects me, “I want to come with you…”

Silence.

“For I am always alone every time you go away, and during those times that you are gone I feel my heart ache.”

I bite the bottom of my lip and feel his sorrow resonating in my chest. After a few seconds, I slowly nod. This time, it is my turn to reach out towards him, and as soon as he holds my hand we return back to my world.

Dawn was breaking out through the window as I opened my eyes. Beside me, was the young man, and I soon remember our agreement. He stirs awake, sitting beside me, a relieved expression on his face.

All day, we chatted inside the room. Me, leaving only to bring meals for both of us. If my grandmother had known he was here, she didn’t mention anything. Sunset came and I knew that it was time to say farewell. He looked a bit sad.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a whisper.

Confused, I turn to him and was about to ask when I finally see what he meant. His hands, which were warm when he held mine was slowly disappearing. Fading away.

I attempt to grab them, only to no avail. I fell to my knees, feeling a despair that is more horrible than what I had felt when my ability to see color disappeared.

“No…” I nearly cried.

He fell to his knees and hugged me, whispering comforting words to my ears.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave…” he says silently. I cried on his shoulder until it was dark and he was gone.

My hands, trembling, I felt determined. He was back in the painting but the painting was no more, he felt emptier and lifeless. I took the can of paint in my hands and tried to steady myself.

I began to finish my work, dabbing paint on the blank canvas. It took forever for it to finish, but he was really gone.

That night, I cried myself to sleep.

 

White.

Not a monochromatic white but it’s still white.

Turning my head, I see my mother, sleeping. The steady beeping of a life support made me realize I’m in a hospital.

My voice was parched as I called out to her…

“Mom?”

She stirs, her eyes widening as she meets mine, and she quickly comes in for a hug. Her embrace was tight and I nearly gasped, as she held on tightly. My father comes in after her and he also rushes in for a hug.

After everything has calmed down, they explained to me everything.

I got caught in a traffic accident, in which I didn’t suffer any sever injuries but it had damaged my eyes and had placed me in a coma. There was a chance that I might lose my eyesight but they were more nervous of my health.

I soon started recuperating. After a few weeks I was in rehab. There were times when I’d meet a boy around my age there. We didn’t really talk to each other but I think I’ve seen him before.

I approached him, grabbing an energy drink from a nearby vending machine as I hobbled on with my walking cane.

He turns as he hears me walking towards him. His expression changing into that of recognition. The closer I look at him, I slowly remember. It would be really awkward if we were to hug, wouldn’t it?

I hold out the energy drink. He takes it.

“Thanks,” he said.

I smile, “You’re welcome.”