Red

1- Black and White, the Rainbow's Overrated

☮ Him ☮

He stared at his sheet, confused. This was so alien to his belief. So strange. He read it once more, still not fully understanding the concept.

Life [it read] is measured in colours. Blue for peace, for harmony, for cold and lonely. Yellow for friendship, the start of something new. Orange, for something wild, exciting. Green, for good, for nature, for jealousy. Grey, for wisdom and for bleakness. And red. My favourite. To represent passion, love, hate, anger. Every emotion, but of the strongest kind. The deepest, the truest. 

I live Red. I live life to the fullest, every second, never wasted. Every moment fulfilled by something meaningful, something worthwhile. I live a life where I don't say the words "I Love You" unless I do. Unless from the bottom of my heart, from the centre of my bones and from each and every pore, my love for you is spilling out. I live a life where I don't say the words "I Hate You" unless anything and everything about you makes me explode with uncontrollable anger and loathing. 

Nothing is half-baked, nothing is left unfinished or unsaid. I say what I feel and pour everything I have into anything I do. I always do my best work, I always try my hardest. Every moment I live. I live Red.

He looked back up from the sheet. a puzzeled expression etched across his features. His grey eyes squinted in thought. She -it had to be a girl, the I's were dotted with tiny stars- didn't even once mention black or white, which happened to be his favourite colours. But like her, he preffered the extremes of the spectrum for a very philosphical reason. Everything could be segregated into black or white, good or bad. One colour to each action. Shades of grey were bullshit made up by people who did bad things, just to justify. And the rainbow? The other colours? They existed purely to give the people false hope, to tell them that there was something outside this well defined, very limited, black and white box. 

He knew the truth. There wasn't. Everyone else was a dreamer, a romantic, someone who wished who read about lives of adventure because he or she didn't have one themselves. Someone like Her. 

But he couldn't get it out of his head. It was a simple english assignment. Write about yourself, life, what it all means to you. You switch with a random person and guess who it is. He couldn't. And he still didn't know. But he kept thinking about it. He saw red wherever he went. Even the smallest speck of the colour caught his eye and he would think of her. Or wondered about her. What was her name? The colour of her hair, her eyes. Was she nice? He thought so. If not a little odd. Maybe she wore a lot of red. All he knew for sure was that they were in English together. 

The next week, in English class, he was staring, unseeing, at his notebook. She had plagued his mind for a week. Red. Red. Red. Everyday. Every moment. Now in English, he was anxious for a chance to find her, but something had tuned him out of his surroundings and nothing entered his head. 

Or so he thought.

"Who got mine?" A girl's voice rang out, clear but soft. His head snapped up, his eyes darting around the class trying to find the girl who owned that voice. Maybe it was Her. He spoke, probably for the first time all year.

"What was it about?" He asked, his voice came out soft and timid, unlike his real voice. But everyone still stared at him, gaping. He bit his lip and shrank in his seat. The girl looked at him and answered slowly, almost scared. He didn't blame her.

"Red, sort of. Colours really" She answered, his eyes widened and a smile replaced his curious looked. She seemed a little more creeped out but she managed to keep her composure.

"I'm guessing you got it?" She asked, hopingthat he wasn't smiling for a different reason, not that she could think of one. He nodded vigorously, creeping her out further, not that he cared just then. He had found Her! Finally! The class went on as normal from then on, but he couldn't stop smiling and every now and again she would look at him, confused and curious. 

At the end of the day, he walked home, humming. Humming? He never hummed. He never smiled, he never did anything even remotely positive. The only thing that kept him un-touched by the others was his silence. "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it". He never had anything nice to say. Ever. But today was different, very different. And not just because today was the day he found her-

"Hey you, who are you?" He whipped around to face her piercing gaze, boring into his eyes. 

Today was definitely different.

It's going to be short chapters. Just saying ^_^ 

Also, I'm not very happy with the second half of it, from the dialouge on. Just saying.

-Noa