Monochrome Nightmare

The Day of all Days

I awoke with a start in a pitch black room. My slender hands felt around the familiar walls for the light switch I knew I would find in three… two… one… Blinking in the sudden light, I tried to recall what horrors plagued my sleep tonight. The same as every night, I could only recall one thing, a vast empty gray.

Most wake up with pictures of ghosts and monsters  and untold horrors left on their eyelids. How can I compare? I, who awake with nothing but gray terrorizing me? One hundred and sixty two times I’ve been wrought with sleepless nights. One hundred and sixty two times I’ve sat wide awake, in the middle of the night, wondering why.

With a sigh I collapsed back onto my crimson red bed sheets. Stealing a quick glance at my clock, I realized it was 3:39. God I needed to go back to sleep. I had to start getting ready for the first day of my senior year in two hours. I traced the golden swirls I had painted on my royal blue walls in 7th grade. What was that dream?  

-BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!- My hand slammed down on my alarm, switching the annoying, blaring noise off. I groaned as I pulled myself upright. I could feel another sleepless night weighing down on me, causing my eyes to droop, hair to sag, and skin appear sallow. I used to be quite pretty, till the nightmares took that too.

Forcing my tired body to its feet, I stumbled over to my rooms lone window. The sky was filled with dark gray clouds, a gray not unlike that of my dreams. Suppressing a shudder, I turned to face my familiar room.

I had occupied this space my whole life. These four walls were my home. The black wooden desk in the corner has seen eleven years of home work. The matching book case has seen more books then it has been able to handle. My closet has been through all my phases together, but now settled on mostly black with an occasional splash of color.  

I ventured out of my summertime safe haven, and walked down the hardwood floors, till my feet met the linoleum of my bathroom. I looked worse than I thought. It seemed my skin was determined to stay a grayish tone forevermore. My once light eyes were now dull and dark, making their blue color more foreboding then welcoming. My black hair used to be so curly and light, but now looked perpetually lank and oddly wavy.

But today was a new day. Today school started again, and today I was determined to make a friend.

In the past I have had friends, but then they just kind of awkwardly drift off. Seeing these old acquaintances come to be a bit distressing to my everyday life, since I have lived in the same place, with the same people, all my life.

This summer I had spent in solitude. I was hoping if I started the school year off fresh, I could have a friend to last me the year, till I was old enough to move away and finally escape this town. This meant for my appearance, well, a lot needed to be done.

I put some dry shampoo into my hair and brushed it. Since that had almost no effect, I decided to just straighten away the small waves that remained. Once I had my dark locks looking somewhat decent, I moved onto makeup. A bit of light blue eye shadow, black eyeliner, and mascara finished my needs in the bathroom.

I hasn’t realized how cold the floor was till my feet were again being caressed by the royal carpet of my bedroom floor. I raced to the closet to pull on the outfit I had planned out weeks ago. Plaid purple skinny jeans, Bring Me The Horizon t-shirt, rainbow belt, beat up black sneakers, and my favorite black beanie. Perfect.

Satisfied with my appearance, I grabbed my book bag and headed downstairs. Perfect, I had just enough time for a bowl of cereal. Most people who don’t get their everyday coffee are grumpy and irritable, well, cereal is my coffee.

After  quick bowl of frosted flakes I ran outside and hopped on the school bus just before it closed its doors and departed. Without question I took the seat in the front. It was still too deal with the rabble rousers at the back of the bus. Fifteen and three fourths minutes, the length of the bus ride. The same ride I’ve taken for three years now.

The same winded tree outside Mr. Jenkins’ dirty yellowed house. The same broken window, second from the right, on grumpy old Mrs. Wenston’s garage. The same old cracked road that hasn’t been paved in who knows how long. On the school bus windows, the fingerprints of children years past this ride. I traced my fingerprints, hoping to leave a lasting mark there too.

When the bus pulled up at the old weathered high school, I was first to get off. I walked to the building, trailed by countless others, with a sense of dread in my stomach. I tried to shake it off, reminding myself that today was supposed to go well. It simply had to. I burst forth through the doors, turning to the same locker I’ve always had, only to be met by a pair of to blue eyes.