Red's Dread

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Red's true identity

 
 

 

As I sit here, watching Red die, I remember who he use to be.  The greatest color I’ve ever known.  He watched out for us, he was our leader, he kept us safe from the brushes.  He hid us from the children, too innocent to understand their crime.  He was my friend, my brother, my savior.  Now I watch as the deathly brush stabs into him, collecting his soul for this foolish game.  They call it art, we call it death.  When a color is stabbed, it loses its life and it’s soul is carried away to be used as paint.  Why do you think colors turn black after used repeatedly, they’re dying.  We knew he’d eventually have to die, but it was still too soon.
 
Now Red Wasn’t what most perceived him to be.  To them, he represented love or war.  Wrong.  So wrong.  He wasn’t a lover, he lost his true love long ago, when Pink was killed.  With her lost, he lost his desire for love and it’s cruel endings.  Colors don’t have a happily ever after.  Now, despite his lack of love, he wasn’t a monster.  He believed in everyone getting along despite their differences.  He realized this when Blue, His arch-rival was murdered on an ordinary day, no sign of upcoming danger.  He saw how fragile our lives were and taught us to be as nice as possible, before we couldn’t make amends for past battles.  
 
Red was wise, he used his life experiences to become the greatest color.  He was thoughtful, sophisticated, and a true visionary.  He was our guru, the ultimate judge.  Before making a decision he looked at every perspective of the Color Wheel.  No matter what the topic, from a color identity crisis to an all out color war, his view was respected.  Everything he said was final, everything he said was right.  He was legendary, our true role model.  I would never forget him.  
 
Now as I looked out from the table and onto the poster, he was being used as the title.  “Don’t Stop Believing”, it said.  I knew he would’ve liked his new shape.  He often told us that he had to believe in order to survive.  However, we knew it had no use.  We would all, one day be used as art, titles, and the worst of all, mixtures.  Before he died, Red’s final words to me were, “Close you'reeyesLavender, It’s going to be ok.  Don’t forget me.”
 How could I forget him?  We have lost our leader, our glorious Red.  They all cried and screamed, each color had a different reaction.  Green screamed, Orange cried, and Greydid nothing but watch in horror.  They were all devastated, crying as the reality sat in.  As for me, I was destroyed.  I was watching my best friend die.  We had lost our leader, role model, and source of hope.  For them this was a project, for us, a funeral.  We couldn’t survive alone.  This was the blackest day, for Red was dead.


Submitted: February 08, 2013

© Copyright 2021 Pedro Rojas. All rights reserved.

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