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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Inspired by a long-distance relationship and an ex-almost.

Submitted: March 30, 2017

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Submitted: March 30, 2017



People often argue about where life truly begins. Does it begin with conception, when the first seed is planted? Or at birth, when the first cries echo off the air, signaling new life? Some face a different view entirely: that their life has not yet begun, even after passing so many “birthdays” as everyone calls them. A day to mark another year of “living” or so they claim. Few realize that there are those who have not yet lived, who are still waiting for their true “birthday”.

For these people, life is dull, common…even painful. There is no color to the world: no green to the plants which grow around them, or bright blue to the sky which rests so high above. They do not see in black or white. Everything is stuck in shades of grey – common, boring, lifeless. Music brings no joy. There is no excited beating of the heart as a favorite song comes on, no lit up gazes nor cheerful sounds of recognition. Sometimes it is sad – other times, it is just a background noise, forever thrumming like an old air conditioner, never to be fully noticed. Fully appreciated. 

It is said there is a cure for the Gray, a solution with which to find the colors and the music and the sheer jubilation which can be found within life. The key lies within the heart of another: through their presence, and their affection, the world will bloom once more. 

Two people in particular live these grey lives. One a man, and the other, a woman. For most of their years, they lived separate lives amongst the gray world, never to know of the other’s existence.

The man lived in a world of isolation. As the world changed and altered around him, he looked out from the edges of a familiar cage, ever questioning the changes. Relentless fear and melancholy set in, and as he found himself approaching the outside world for the first time, he pushed back, hiding away in solitary familiarity. Those who approached were unwittingly chased away, and even as his existence continued on, he aimlessly took to meaningless tasks, finding little enjoyment in them. The Gray had consumed him, infecting all that which he looked upon.

The woman lived in a world of struggle. Betrayed by those she cared for, from birth to decades of life, she was forced to power through the Gray. Twice she witnessed the colors, heard the music; in some cases, clear and comfortable, while in others, faint and at times, jarring. She came to know pain as she pushed through the Gray. It did not leave her without her scars, however: Shadows and those that might creep within seem to haunt her path, and silence constricts her voice in the place of rage. The Gray lingers, floating about her like an invisible fog.

A meeting took place. For the first time, a flicker of color could be seen, and a small tune, heard. Zombies fell beneath their blasts – both carefully aimed and recklessly taken – and orders were called out to their companions around them, their vision focused by their arms and weapons. Work together, fight apart, it all came down to the opponents which rushed them. Figures ran by, their names clearly displayed for all to read, icons flashing pictures with dull colors beginning to replace the cold silver.

A bond was secured.

Words were exchanged: simple, casual, common. Zombies were abandoned for other opponents, new titles and identities taking over the gun-shot vision. Colors remained dull, yet seemed to echo against the familiar icons. Names became recognizable. 

A friendship begins.

Conversation is no longer restricted to casual games and informal topics. The greyscale life comes into topic, hovering over both of their heads. And yet, it seems so much less harsh than before, so less threatening. Playing together, taking on challenges and new rivals together becomes a more regular occurrence. Rarely a time goes by that the man and the woman are not working together, enjoying each other’s company. 

Affection grows, and the music plays, so soft and sweet.

The first “good night” is spoken. So many of their time would worry, and shy away from such words. The man and woman have no such concerns. The man steps from his isolation, and for once does not find himself alone. The woman becomes less afraid of what is to come. Conversation comes easily, flowing between the two like a river, every day. They never forget to say “good night” to each other, the words repeated each night like a mantra. Like a promise. 

The Gray is fading away. 

A new day has begun, and with it, a new life. An announcement brings them together, face to face without a screen for the very first time. The man stands amongst others on a significant day. He wonders if they see the colors of the world, hear the music. He wonders if they are like him, living in the Gray. 

However, with the first sight, the Gray disappears. It is vaporized by the explosion of colors which encompass his vision, nearly overwhelming him in their bright beauty. Is this what it’s like to truly see the world? Sounds echo in from all sides – is this what music is like? Yet none compare to that which stands before him: the woman whom has brought him from his isolation. It is she who had returned the colors to his world, she who brought the music to his ears. And yet…

None of it can truly compare the woman herself. As he gazes upon her, he realizes that the colors, the music, the life in the world, they have always existed. He is looking at them all right now, and as she looks back, he realizes that she can see the same. 

Life never truly begins for some people. Not until they find someone with which to live it with. 

The Gray is gone. Light, color, and music have returned to their worlds. 

© Copyright 2018 Broken Wings. All rights reserved.

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