SUNSHINE and DARKNESS

Color

trigger warning - isolation and implied abuse 

word count - 3,256 

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All Will wanted in life was color. He had read descriptions of red and blue and yellow and brown. In his mind, he imagined red to be bold and bright, the color of the sun on a hot day. He imagined blue to be wet and sticky, the feeling of the ocean. Yellow and brown were very diverse, he decided. They could be yummy or gross or even just boring. He wasn't sure what to think of them.

He had grown up in a life absent of color. The walls of his room were white, a color he'd learned to associate with blankness and tedium. Everything was monochromatic (a word he'd learned in his just as black and white books). Everything was blank, stripped of meaning.

He hears the usual clatter of whatever happens outside his door every day. He's never told what it is; he isn't even sure if anyone else can hear it. No one mentions it, and he doesn't know how to ask. He turns back to his pad of paper.

Will had been taught to read; he'd been taught many things. Except for how to communicate. He wasn't allowed to speak, to make any noise. When he needed something, he was to simply just wait until it was provided. Sometimes it was never provided, in which case, he reasoned it was because he didn't need it.

Yet, Will still had this thought that he needed to see colors. In books, they were always described in so much detail. He'd asked once, on paper, if he could see colors. The answer he'd been given made sure that he never asked again.

So things continued the same way as they always had. The word for it was routine.

Will woke up when he was instructed to. A clock sat by his bedside, and it beeped when he was supposed to be awake. Soon after this, he was always fed, though he never knew what he was eating. They always covered his eyes. He liked to imagine that it was cake or some other type of bread as people in books always wanted to eat bread or cake.

After eating, he was instructed through a variety of exercises. Someone in a white lab coat would watch him, giving him orders. It was always the same man, Will thought. He was tall and thin and had grey hair. He liked to write on his clipboard with a pen. After exercising, Will was usually left alone. During this time, he'd either read or draw or just sit on his bed and think.

He'd become pretty good at reading and drawing. He'd memorized at least half of the books in his room, and recently, he'd started to draw that man who always made him exercise. The first attempts weren't good, filled with awkward lines and too much excitement. But, slowly, Will got better until the man had once pointed to Will's pad of paper, a strange look on his face.

Will didn't know how long he was allowed to do what he wanted. It was usually stopped when he had to eat again, the same procedure. If he had to use the bathroom, he was to push the button by his door. Then someone would come in, blindfold him, and take him somewhere he could relieve himself. Will thought this was strange. People in books never seemed to go to the bathroom.

After he ate, the man would come back in and look at him. Sometimes he'd touch Will. He always seemed to be looking for something, and Will wanted to know what that was. If he knew, maybe the man would finally be able to find it. Sometimes Will was quizzed on what he read, though he still didn't know what they were looking for. And after that man left, Will was instructed to brush his teeth and go to bed.
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Nico's not sure what he expected to find. A lab: with the stereotypical instruments and machines? A prison: with iron bars and dirty conditions? Reyna had briefed him of the possible scenarios, but Nico had kind of tuned her out. He was only new to this case; he'd been on other assignments before. He'd seen things, felt things, heard things. He could handle this.