My Short Stories

Red Sky At Mourning

Pink.
Purple.
Red.
Yellow.
Orange.
The sunset had almost every single beautiful colour you could think of.
But all I could see was grey.
It made me angry.
I knew I shouldn't be angry; I should be sad, but it still filled me with a rage hotter than the flames of hell.
How dare they be so beautiful and colourful?
Do they have any idea what could happen today?
Are they taking the piss?
The phone begins to ring.
I won't answer it.
Why answer it if all it brings is even more anger sadness?
Grey.
Black.
White.
Monochrome.
That's all I decided to acknowledge.
Because those are the only colours that aren't making fun of me by being cheerful.
Black understands how I feel.
Grey is what I feel inside.
White represents the emptiness that I can't hope to understand.
The phone continues to ring.
I let it ring.
At least the constant ringing is something to listen to besides this constant screaming of agony and rage that haunts my dreams and my consciousness.
Why did this happen? The screams ask I ask.
Why me and not that smartass bitch at school who always corrects my stupidity with a sneer; with a smirk?
Why them and not me?
Why couldn't it have been me, and not them?
What did I do to deserve this?
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Silence.
It has stopped. Now I can be in sync with the silence inside me.
Now I know, without being told
Goodbye, my love.
You shall be missed, just like the colours of the sunset that is fading away from my view.
I shall miss you, and the colours you brought into my life.
Because now you're gone, the colours are already fading away.