Blood Red

Phase 4: The Redemption

The colours weren't the first things I noticed. The sounds that came from the splatters of the reds, the blues and the yellows were.

While the children of my class were learning to speak in complete sentences, I was making symphonies and orchestrating my masterpieces in isolation.

While the girls were racing each other and then breaking into fits of helpless giggles on hitting the floor, I was making the paints race each other to see which one would emerge the winner.

I didn't just stand out in a world that paid no heed to the colors around it; I stuck out in it like a sore thumb. Why no one appreciated the music that it created was a question I assumed no one could answer.

In a way, I'd been right. No one did answer it. I just learnt it within myself.

I was synesthetic. My world was more colorful than the rest because of something that the world termed as an 'ailment'. After the first few pity looks and confused expressions I had to endure upon revealing my secret, I swore to myself that no one could know the truth.

It was funny how this ailment had soon become a way of life.

And no one knew about the only thing that made me wake up every morning with a smile on my face.

Not even Mia. Because I knew she would hate me when she learnt the truth.

I was impaired after all. No one wanted an impaired friend.