Colors

Grey

     We made it here. Yet again effectively running away from our problems. The car comes to its final stop, with a strong forward jolt. I look to my pregnant sister, Maddie, out of the corner of my eye. She notices... I smile at her, apologetically. 

     My mother is the first person out of the car. As she stands, her knees make an awful noise that can only be described as arthritic. My dad turns around for the first time in hours to look at us and his face is void of emotion, but his eyes... they are wistful. Jessie rises, his head bowed. A single tear falls to the ground and he sighs her name.

     Finally, Katie rolls her eyes and smacks her gum, the second body to exit the vehicle. I continue to sit silently in my spot because I can feel the acid from my stomach settling in my throat. My mother opens my door and offers her hand as aid to help my  fatigued body stand. My father throws open the trunk and begins unloading our luggage. My mom sighs something about new beginnings, and approaches the door of the 2-story Victorian-style home. I look around to find we have no neighbors. At least there's no more police reports, that way.

     Katie grabs her bags and rushes the door enthusiastically. I hear her feet thud up the stairs, and moments later I hear her bags crash to the floor as she declares "mine" on the second biggest bedroom in the house. Maddie scoffs and looks to my father. He glances at her belly and shrugs. I grab my bags and my arms feel wrong. I can hear the sound of my own desperate breathing, and the pained swallowing of my saliva in a frantic scramble to force the acid out of my throat. I am overwhelmingly nauseated and the world spins. I feel my legs wobble, and I finally hit the ground. I am gently comforted by the knowledge that this is the only sleep I've had in days, and maybe I won't wake up. 

    My body feels almost numb, but I can feel the pressure of my father's hand on my arm, jerking me up. I don't bother to open my eyes. Jessie Takes me from my father, carrying me with one arm on the small of my back, and one beneath my knees. I try to open my mouth to apologize to him, but all that comes out is a bitter taste and a burning sensation in my throat. I hear him as I fade in and out of consciousness. He's singing. "God help the outcasts, hungry from birth. Show them the mercy they don't find on Earth." I muster a smile and whisper "Nerd" He quietly chuckles. It's the first time he's laughed since she left. It's also the first time I've heard him sing. She absolutely robbed him of his happiness, and in this moment I felt overwhelming aversion.

     Today, I am grey. Grey like the sky before a deluge. Grey like The little hairs that my mother tries to dye away. Grey like the sickly pigment of my skin. Grey like the walls of my new bedroom. Grey like the stone that my heart was carved from. Grey takes the darkest shade and the lightest pigment and makes a color that embodies apathy, and disdain simultaneously. I divulge in death, but if I have to live for Jessie to start singing again, I will live forever.