Colorless Universe

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A girl who is color blind. Photograph from this site: http://www.newzonfire.com/2009/05/22/25-outstanding-examples-black-white-photography/

Submitted: December 26, 2010

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Submitted: December 26, 2010

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The trees bent over with surprisingly flexible resistant. Their leaves waving in the wind, some brown like the bark that held them up. They floated down with a graceful sway and then danced on the sidewalk, like a ballet; all these different colors, so bright and wonderful. Just like the different personalities of people there are different shades of every color. The only problem for me with such an amazing sight is that I can’t identify the variety. I cannot see the difference in the shades or how the colors would mix with beauty.

A sigh escaped my lips before I turned and looked down at my lap, away from the closed window. My grandma use to describe the shades of colors, like how her favorite blouse was as purple as a lilac or how my cat had orange fur like the first rays of a sunrise. I can’t see these things though. My world is not vibrant like a rainbow; it’s dull as an old flick from the 70s. I wish I could see just what everyone admires and how the girls at my school gossip about the new fashions and how the colors go so well together. I get snickered at a lot by my classmates because when we have to color I don’t know what colors to choose, I just go with the one I can read off of.
Dark green? Is that darker than forest green or lighter?
When people ask me my favorite color I just shrug and say the rainbow. Although, really, it depends on my mood like if I feel happy I’ll say rainbow but if I feel angry I’ll say black, though when I’m sad I become a realist.
“I cannot see colors. How am I to know what one I would like? Black and white, different shades of gray. I don’t really have a favorite one.”
I moved down from the window sill and padded over to the door. I wanted to take a walk. Often I took walks down my neighborhood, carefully treading the sidewalks looking at all the different things and pondered of whether that flower would be pink or that tree would have light green leaves. Sometimes, if I was ever so lucky, my grandma would come over and she’d help explain the colors to me although I could never quite picture it.
I grabbed my coat from the rack by the door, figuring it would be nippy outside because of the wind. Shoving my hands in my pockets I called out to the house, knowing my mom would be inside the kitchen trying a new recipe. She called back in her sweet honey coned voice, letting me know she must have started on a very tasty looking desert. Deserts; her favorite treat to make and adding her own touches. I walked outside and shut the door, tugging my dark gray coat around me.
Outside at last, in this bleak, colorless world of mine. My feet take the first steps out from my comfort zone to the world full of vibrancy that I couldn’t see. As I walked I saw various things, from the roses across the street to Mr. Carlson’s house that had numerous statues on his lawn. They looked like goblins to me but he constantly told me they were dwarves but I never really agreed. They had pointy ears and beards going past their chests to their stomachs and little beady eyes looking out. They all reminded me of gargoyles but in smaller form, more “friendlier” forms.
I smiled a little and moved my gaze along to Mrs. Harrison walking her poodles. Supposedly they were died pink and blue which made me frown because dogs… dyed? It sounded awful to me but the dogs looked pretty happy to me. Strutting down the sidewalk like they owned it. They always made me smile though, although I couldn’t see their funny colors. I continued my walk down my neighborhood. So many times I traced this route that I knew it by heart, without thinking I turn a corner down to the park I will go. It has many different things I can ponder on. Where Humming birds will zoom by and butterflies float over flowers.
Maybe I can’t see colors but I can imagine. I can dream of what it would be like.
Dark green? Is that darker than forest green or lighter?
When people ask me my favorite color I just shrug and say the rainbow. Although, really, it depends on my mood like if I feel happy I’ll say rainbow but if I feel angry I’ll say black, though when I’m sad I become a realist.
“I cannot see colors. How am I to know what one I would like? Black and white, different shades of gray. I don’t really have a favorite one.”
I moved down from the window sill and padded over to the door. I wanted to take a walk. Often I took walks down my neighborhood, carefully treading the sidewalks looking at all the different things and pondered of whether that flower would be pink or that tree would have light green leaves. Sometimes, if I was ever so lucky, my grandma would come over and she’d help explain the colors to me although I could never quite picture it.
I grabbed my coat from the rack by the door, figuring it would be nippy outside because of the wind. Shoving my hands in my pockets I called out to the house, knowing my mom would be inside the kitchen trying a new recipe. She called back in her sweet honey coned voice, letting me know she must have started on a very tasty looking desert. Deserts; her favorite treat to make and adding her own touches. I walked outside and shut the door, tugging my dark gray coat around me.
Outside at last, in this bleak, colorless world of mine. My feet take the first steps out from my comfort zone to the world full of vibrancy that I couldn’t see. As I walked I saw various things, from the roses across the street to Mr. Carlson’s house that had numerous statues on his lawn. They looked like goblins to me but he constantly told me they were dwarves but I never really agreed. They had pointy ears and beards going past their chests to their stomachs and little beady eyes looking out. They all reminded me of gargoyles but in smaller form, more “friendlier” forms.
I smiled a little and moved my gaze along to Mrs. Harrison walking her poodles. Supposedly they were died pink and blue which made me frown because dogs… dyed? It sounded awful to me but the dogs looked pretty happy to me. Strutting down the sidewalk like they owned it. They always made me smile though, although I couldn’t see their funny colors. I continued my walk down my neighborhood. So many times I traced this route that I knew it by heart, without thinking I turn a corner down to the park I will go. It has many different things I can ponder on. Where Humming birds will zoom by and butterflies float over flowers.
Maybe I can’t see colors but I can imagine. I can dream of what it would be like.


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