The sun rose again this morning.
I felt it.
Not the sun.
I felt a ripple of power.
An electric shock.
Like pain, but it didn't hurt.
It was brighter than pain and more powerful.
It wasn't rage either.
It was simply raw, uncaged power.
That was when I started to see them.
Spirits.
I could see the spirits.
They were clear.
They were dead.
They were different from the others.
Whenever I see dragons, I see layers upon layers of emotion bottled up inside of them.
Dragons are strange.
Dragons are complicated.
It's even harder to see them when red is in the air.
Red follows me everywhere.
But these spirits.
They were clear.
Any emotion from their past lives was no longer inside of them.
Instead their colors were scattered all around them.
Colour is something nobody can leave behind.
Even after you pass to the other side.
If I don't want to feel, then I must never let the color touch me.
There are good colors.
They pull you out of the shadows.
They light up the dark places of your soul.
Happy colors.
Some of these spirits were filled with happy colors.
Yellow, white and lights and sounds.
Except there were no sounds.
The spirits were quiet.
The colors didn't scream or fight to be on top of each other, not like living emotions and colors.
Their colors were still.
Just staying with the spirits.
I've never seen them before.
I didn't disturb them.
Already a stream of red shadow was flowing from father's door.
I think I'll drown in that putrid red hate someday.
The red is always there.
It comes out of father.
His soul has holes all over it.
The red smoke snakes in and out of the holes like squirming white worms.
He is ruined.
He is barely alive.
He is pushing brother into the shadow, he doesn't do it purposely.
But the red shadow is enough to drive anyone insane.
Not the spirits though.
The anger glides away from the spirits.
I think I'll try that.
Breathing in father's red dark anger is like breathing blood.
Hard rusted blood.
I'll stay into the light to protect my brother.
The shadow is growing nearer.
YOU ARE READING
Whiteout
Spiritual(cover art not mine) What is whiteout thinking? How does she really see the world? Emotions never let go, never. The moment they touch you, you'll have them forever. Even death can't seperate you and your emotions. And... That's why whiteout fears...
