Colour Blind

chapter one

-

*three months previous*

People just don't understand the concept of being colour blind.

To them, colour blind is just a person who sees the world in black and white, but it's actually more complicated than that.

You see, as I've learnt over the years, there are other forms of colour blindness.

Some in which people just see colours differently to others. To put it in perspective, it's like looking at life through a filter. Sometimes colours are duller, change, are brighter, some only see in blue and yellow colours.

And as for me, I have the stereotypical colour blindness, which is, funnily enough, the rarest kind; I see the world in every shade of black, white and grey.

Ever since I was young, very few actually understood the concept of not being able to see colour. Most just said 'how can you not see colour?', and no matter how hard I tried, I just could not get them to understand. So I gave up, and just stopped attempting to interact.

One thing I've learnt is that if you're different, people will pick up on it, and usually, make you wish you were the same.

"Alec, there you are." mum says, spotting me sitting up in the branches of the large, oak tree out in the backyard.

"Yeah, what do you want mum?" I ask, looking down, swinging my legs

"I want you to come down from there and finish your homework." mum says, "you told me you have assignments!"

"And I finished them. That's a good thing about not having a life mum." I say, leaning back in the tree

Mum sighs.

"Don't be such a smart ass and get down from the tree. And study like you told me you were going to." she says, before turning and walking back inside

I sigh and push my hair back off my forehead, before climbing along a branch, which stretches out to my window.

I slide back inside my room, my shoes making a thump against the grey, well, to me, carpet.

I groan as I feel the fabric of my t-shirt pull. I can't be bothered to unhook it from the branch so I just yank it until the fabric tears away.

I decide to change, seeing as my t-shirt is now ripped. I throw on a pair of black jeans and another plain, white shirt.

I prefer dressing in black and white clothes, because I actually know what the colour looks like.

But frankly, my mother could buy me any colour clothes, tell me that it's black or white, and I wouldn't ever find out.

For all I know, I could be walking around in the brightest colour known to man kind.

I sigh, flopping down into my desk chair and opening a large, heavy history textbook. My eyes scan over the words lazily, as I'm not particularly concerned about the test on Monday.

You see, being an outcast has it's perks, not having a social life allows more time for studying and reading, due to this fact, I actually could be in my second year of university now, but my mother would prefer me to be 'as normal as I possibly can be', so thats why I'm still stuck in my last year of high school.

It's sort of sad that I can't recall ever having a real friend, or a life for that matter. Some kids were just born different I suppose. Being different is supposed to be a good thing, except if you're an individual, you're in the minority, so all the boring, cliche people just stand back and make you wish you were the same.

After being on the outside my whole life, all I want is just to fit in, but no matter how hard I try, I just can't.

-

As I walk into school the next day, i just keep my head down.

Maybe today, everyone will be nice and not remind me every two seconds that i can't see fucking colour. That'd be nice. Also impossible.

I manage to make it to my locker, opening it and getting a book out before it's snatched from my hands, and held up high by none other than Logan Mathews, the schools wellknown bully.

"C'mon dude, not now, just give it back." I groan, trying to reach it

I may be considered tall, but let me tell you, when it comes to being tall, Logan is on another level, Seriously, he's that tall.

"Aw, I'll give it back," he says, an evil smirk on his face, "if you can tell me what colour it is."

I groan and bite my tongue, preventing myself from punching him in the jaw right there and then. See what I mean about people teasing me? It sucks, majorly.

"It's fucking red now give it back." a strong, confident voice says from behind me

"Ruin the game why don't you newbie." Logan groands, but still throws my book back at me, which i catch and quickly stuff in my bag.

I turn to see a girl, who falls just a few inches smaller than me. She has an average bodyweight and long, dark hair, and to me, dark grey, mysterious eyes, lined with long lashes, a smug look permanently on her face, as if she isn't afraid of anything.

"Uh, thanks.'" I mumble, looking down

"That's okay, I'd better go to class, but nice seeing you." she replies

I watch her feet walk away down the hall before I dare to look up again, finding no sign on Logan or the girl. I sigh as I finish getting my books out of my locker.

I'm such an awkward misfit.

I just want to fit in, but I guess the world is against me for some reason.

I decide against sitting outside alone, and just head for my first class, my history test. A few people are inside, scattered around, studying rapidly, hoping it'l be enough to pass. I roll my eyes and sit in the second row, right on the edge closest to the door.

I may be smart but I'm not some nerd who sits at the front, reminding the teacher about the homework we had and answering every question perfectly.

I'd just rather keep my head down, and turn invisible, just fit in, but it seems as if that won't ever happen to me.

My mother told me once that some people were just born to stand out, to be different, like me. But what if I just want to be the same?

I guess we're just stuck with what we get. And I'm stuck with a horrible, boring, basically non existent, colourless life.

Lucky me.

*************

AN

Hey hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Please vote, comment and share

Let me know what you think so far,

I'll update again soon!

Thanks for reading,

:)