A World Without Colour

01 | ophelia

"Put you in jail for something you didn't do."

––Afterglow, Taylor Swift

Freedom is a terrifying word.

When I think of freedom, I think of two things. First, I imagine being completely and utterly happy, able to go where I want, do what I want to do, and be who I want to be. Freedom appears to be an exhilarating experience. However, on the other hand, I see freedom as a daunting thing. Images of large mountains towering over me fill my mind, threatening to crush my insignificant body into a million pieces––I am nothing, compared to the rest of the world, and being out there alone means I would have no power against it.

And finally, after I fantasise about being free, I remember that it's not possible.

Because there's only one way for me to escape this hell of a life. And that means going out into the night.

In case you're confused, here's the dilemma.

Going out at night—––illegal.

Why? People do not get to keep their colour once they go out at night. We call it the 'colour-draining', where everyone loses any colour they have in their body and becomes monotone. As well as that, we are stuck in the darkness, no longer allowed to go into the day.

Touching another human being (unless you have gone through a bunch of paperwork for birth-giving reasons)—––also illegal.

It's all messed up, I know.

Don't even get me started on the colour-draining. They say it's horrible, that it feels like you're going to be imprisoned for eternity, stuck in the monotone.

You'd be trapped in the darkness.

"It's not getting any better is it? " Solis's hushed voice snapped me out of my thoughts, he stole a glance at the cuts and bruises on my arms.

"If you're talking about my history project, then you're right," I replied, sarcastically––pulling my sleeves down further to avoid any continuation of this conversation.

Solis scratched the back of his head with a pained l0ok on his face. "No, Ophie, I mean–,"

"I know."

How could I not know he was talking about my family? It's literally the most enjoyable topic to discuss when walking on a seaside cliff with the only person who cares about you.

"It's not gonna get easier if you don't tell anyone," Solis muttered under his breath.

NEWS FLASH: once again, I was being told things I already knew. The bruises on my arms were enough proof of what my so-called family had done to me.

But how do I explain it? How do I explain that my parents tried to kick me out in the hopes that I'd get stuck in the night? And how do I say that they hit me every chance they get and shove insults down my throat like it was supposed to make me a better person?

"Ophelia," Solis said, his tone sharper this time, "Did you hear me? You need to report this."

Easy for him to say. He has no parents.

"That's not much better, sweetheart," the voice in my head told me.

I froze in bewilderment. 'The voice' wasn't exactly my conscience, it was like it was a person of its own. I'd been hearing it since I was around six years old. I named it Lily and pretended she was an imaginary friend.

However...As I got older, Lily kinda annoyed me. It became more creepy than friendly, having an actual voice inside my head––especially since I vaguely recognised it, but couldn't tell from where. She disappeared for a few years.