I feel odd, not like my usual self. Something is different; I cannot put my finger on it. I think for a few minutes. I look inside myself. I do not like what I see. I am an empty shell, I just sit here. I occupy space for others. I close my eyes and just breathe. I breathe for one minute, two minutes and three minutes. Just maybe, just maybe I am mistaken. Maybe I am not an empty, rotten cavern. I peek again. I whisper “Hello?” My own timid voice echoes lightly back. Is that really my own voice? This is scary. What is going on? Where am I? A better question would be; WHO THE HELL IS THIS?
There used to be so many colours inside of me. I am colourless. I am nothing but air and time. Where have all my colours gone? Did I throw them all out, was it on purpose or by accident? Maybe my colours were snatched from me, stolen. No colour equals death.
I miss my yellow, purple, red, pink and even my blue. Without my colours I am no one. I do not really exist. Without colours how can others see me the way I want and need to be seen? Without colours I am close to death. Am I dying? Who put the stamp on me that say EXIT? I would go and find more colours but it is not that easy. No one just randomly leaves their colours pattering around.
I need the colour yellow. Yellow is my laughter. It reminds me of sunshine during the summer. I love having the sun bake down on my skin. Yellow reminds me that there are priceless moments that we live for. Those snapshots of our lives that make us feel on top of the world! Yellow makes me smile and grateful for who I am.
I miss purple. This colour brings me hope. What a life to live without purple! No hope day after day, after day. There would be no point. I need to cling to purple like a raft that drifts alone in the ocean. Purple is like my mask. A mask I need in order to face challenges.
Pink provides me with protection. Pink is what protects me from the ugly slush that is constantly thrown at me. Not just during the winter months either. There is such an abundance of slush. I am lucky enough to encounter it quite frequently. The good news is the slush is free. Just a heads up, frequent use does not accumulate air miles! My pink is a cape with sequins that sparkle and cloak me when I need it.
My blue has been stripped away! How dare they? This is my strength Blue is my mojo and energy. How am I to give to others? I cannot even breathe without my colour blue. Blue is like water, it quenches my soul’s thirst.
Tears glide down. I blink several times. This is not a dream. This is my harsh reality. I look down and inside myself once again. Still, there are no colours. Inside of me is still horrid black. There are no colours that dance around. Just a dark cavern, I am pathetic space. Something is trying to come to light. There is something crucial that I need to remember. It is important. Without colours, WITHOUT COLOURS WHAT? Why are colours so important?
Someone gently takes hold of my left hand. They whisper gently into my left ear “Do not move, just be. I love you today, tomorrow and always”. NO COLOUR IS.....DEATH.
THE END
Bio: My name is Catina Noble. I am a freelance writer and photographer in Ottawa, Ontario. I have been published inShort-Story Me, The Prairie Journal, The Riverview Park Review, The Mindful Word, Babypost, Canadian Newcomer, Mainstreeter, PENand CultivateTo. I suffer from stationary sickness and can never have too many pens or notebooks! I am a single mom of four and I love the words “carpe diem”, today, tomorrow and always!