Color

Her

She remebered the colors vaguely.

A long time ago, 80 years maybe, everything had color. Her colors were beautiful. She had dark, choclately hair in her youth and even darker skin. Her eyes were a tropical sea on a calm day, marveled at by all those who saw her. Her lips often painted to match the bright clothing she wore. To say she was beautiful was an undersatement. Everything about her was perfect. She was an explosion of energy.

The colors slipped away slowly and it was hardly noticed that they were leaving at all.

She stared at herself, trying to remember how she looked before the world turned grey. Now her hair and skin was black, her eyes an empty grey. Her lips were not painted anymore, for all the paint had dried up. Her youth had left her as quickly as the colors did.

The sunsets were the last colors to fade from existence.

She sat on her white bed, which groaned under her weight. The room was old, not nearly as old as her, but old. Above her a white fan revolved lazily, stirring the warm air in the room and not doing much use. Outside, millions of miles away, a bright orb shined beams of light into her room. The wallpaper peeled on the walls, and a cracked mirror stood in the corner of the small room.

Her favorite color was the sky at midnight, a dark almost black, blue dotted with tiny pinpoints of white. A color she could almost see the color when she looked at the nightsky.

She stood up and shuffled along the hall, boards creaking under every step, colorless portraits lining the otherwise barren walls. She opened the front door, that was once the color of mud, but like everything else was blackened over time.

Artists died out with the colors and paintings became worthless.

The yard was dead and untamed, weeds sticking up between the cracks of the path leading to the house. A metal, spiked fence lined the edge of the yard, threatening anyone who came close to the house.

To many color was just as ridiculous and mythical as dragons or unicorns.

She had lost touch of reality, living in the forgotten world of color and beauty, ignoring the world as it was now, a constant dreamer. The world was not as bright as it was before, but nothing else had changed. Children played across the street, laughing and screaming at each other, birds sung songs from the blooming trees, everything was the same as it was years ago.

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This is the first story I've written and I actually don't know where I'm going with this, but I have a few ideas. I was mostly just testing my descriptive skills, but I like what I have so I'll continue.