Sirens filled the hills. The girl remembered all of her cop encounters from running away and prank calling the police. She was afraid, there was even a bomber plane belonging to the army flying above her head. She kept looking back, as if someone was chasing her. The plane disappeared into the gray, lifeless clouds and the sirens faded away. She crossed the bridge going over a creek full of fish. Everything was quiet, and the girl didn't know what scared her more: the police or total silence at 3 pm. The air was cold, but she felt hot in her purple jacket, the only thing that seemed to be colored in with life in this dreary landscape of road and grass. The grass was dying, leaves were red and falling, but she did not see red, only gray. Gray bridge, dark water, gray pavement, gray sky. Nothing seemed nice at all, silence and more silence. It was so quiet she could hear the wind's voice: one belonging to a woman begging for help, one from a stillborn child, and one from a old man's last breath. She expected to smell death, but all there was to smell was empty air. The plane reappeared in the sky, now looking gray as ever. She didn't wave, even though she thought she should, as Veterans Day was approaching. She held on to her backpack shoulder, took in a deep breath of lifeless air, and continued to walk home. She looked at every house, all different colors, and it seemed no one was in any of them, and even though they were not gray, they seemed gray in her mind. Lifeless and empty. It was like she was in Hiroshima after the United States had set off the atomic bomb, and she was the only survivor, left for the rest of her days seeing gray dust, gray fog, silence and destruction. Then, with the smallest thought, she saw in her mind that she was there, but all alone in the silence. Every house she passed, she felt more and more isolated from the world. No one was in sight, it was just her and the world with no one in it. She started to remember the people in school that would choose to make her feel like she didn't exist; they were too focused on themselves and their own friends that they never saw her as one of their friends, but as an acquaintance with weird quirks. She hated that, and it hurt. She felt her eyes well up, but she didn't cry because the wind removed them from her eyes, as if it were saying, 'you can't cry, little coward. Keep watching this grayness that you call life.' Life to her turned gray, and she kept a straight face, emotions building up that the air somehow got rid of as she walked. As soon as they formed, the air took them away to add to its voice. The wind was teaching her a lesson, but she did not understand the lesson. What was there to learn if she couldn't see color or happiness? Everything was gray, and it didn't change. Maybe the world wasn't supposed to be happy and occupied. Right then she knew the lesson: people will hate you, rate you, shake you, and break you, but how strong you stand is what makes you. When she had learned the lesson, the colors came back, one by one, and she grew happier and happier until she arrived home, seeing all colors and her dog was full of color, so bright, she smiled. The dog even seemed more happier than usual. This was a good day.
