Waking up to White

Another colour based piece. Turns out these are a lot of fun to write...Slightly more morbid...

I open my eyes- slowly, cautiously. I take in the surroundings, I breathe in the white air, I feel the white sheets, I smell the white room, I hear the white tears.
I sense them staring at me. I feel their hesitant attempts to hold me, to come near me, to be with me. The white hurts my eyes. I close them- slowly cautiously.

I hear the incessant beeps- one loud one not so loud, then loud again. The window appears to be open. The comfortingly cold air tiptoes into the room. It carefully makes its way towards me, taking care not to disturb the sterile room and its sterile inmates. It tickles my chin, it plays with my fingers, it fills my lungs, it dances on my tummy, it welcomes me. The snowflakes outside the window slow their descent. They shout their greetings through the open window. The white rituals begin. The white existence commences.

I look around my new home. Walls daubed in the brightest of colours. Not a white patch to be seen. Yellow sunshine, blue clouds, green grass, red poppies, orange ice cream, purple dresses, magenta swings, ochre sand, teal petals. All the white has been painted over. White has been overpowered. I couldn't be more separate from my new home.

The empty corners, the empty back yard, the one student classrooms, the house with no neighbours. White gave them shame. White gave me solitude. White silently wields its sword. White wages war with all the colours and brightness, the most tainted and twisted form of purity ever encountered. White is the darkest of them all.

Every overprotective gesture, every engulfing embrace, every peck on the cheek, every declaration of love, every wave goodbye while I wait to be rescued. Every white memory haunts me now. Every horrid remark, every desperate attempt to hide disgust and disbelief, every understanding nod at the sound of the word albino. Every white memory haunts me now...