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Cyanophobia
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Megan hated the color blue.
At first her parents thought it was merely a silly phase she was going through, like most children who find something to dislike. When it got worse, they attributed it to an aversion to the color, just like some people hate pink or yellow. Eventually, though, they couldn't ignore Megan's behavior anymore. It was borderline insane the lengths she would go to to avoid blue altogether. Her psychiatrist said she had Cyanophobia; fear of the color blue.
While it certainly wasn't life threatening, it put a damper on a lot of what the family did. Her parents chose not to have any more kids because Megan was enough of a handful. She had to have certain sunglasses that tinted everything an orange or reddish color so that she couldn't see the sky, or water as blue. The TV had to be warmly tinted, instead of at its regular setting and never at a cool tint. She couldn't own anything blue, including jeans, and doctors had to be notified to her fear before meeting with her. She had to be home schooled, sheltered in a controlled environment. It was nearly impossible to have guests over or make friends because if there was even a hint of blue, she would freak out. Luckily for her family, no one had blue eyes.
What puzzled Megan's parents the most was that they weren't sure how her phobia developed. As far as they were aware, there had been no traumatic episodes in her life that would cause such a great fear. If Megan even caught a glimpse of blue, she would start shaking uncontrollably and sweat through her clothes. Her eyes would turn glassy and she would usually start chanting something about making it go away or attack whatever the blue object was. Sometimes it would take hours to calm her down and when she'd finally come to, she wouldn't remember a thing.
Her parents had done a pretty good job of monitoring her and avoiding blue all whilst frantically looking for a cure or some sort of medicine that could help her. Doctors were baffled though. They had tried a range of drugs on her used for most phobia's or personality disorders, but none worked. "The best thing to do," they said, "is to keep watching her to see if anything changes. We'll keep trying medicines, but she may be this way for the rest of her life. Don't let it put a damper on anything, her condition isn't too bad."
Little did they know it was a lot worse than they suspected.
"Megan?" a soothing voice whispered through her mind. "Megan, honey can you look at me?" She frowned when she realized the voice wasn't in her head, but was actually real. Her eyes fluttered delicately as she slowly let the light in, revealing an older man crouched in front of her. He was wearing a green paramedic uniform and holding a medical bag in his right hand. "Hello, my name is Clay," he smiled kindly at the young teen.
Megan glanced at him briefly, before looking around her living room. There were a couple policemen walking around, taking pictures of something by the couch and glancing at her suspiciously. "What happened?" she rasped, returning her attention to Clay.
He frowned at her, flicking a casual gaze over her and resting at her right hand. "You don't remember?" She followed his gaze and saw a large knife clutched in her fingers. It was covered in blood, as were her arms and clothes. Megan stood up quickly, afraid of what she'd see by the couch. Before the paramedic could block her vision, she caught a glimpse of her parents lying on the floor and covered in blood.
"Oh God," she whimpered, taking a step back. "I didn't...I don't remember." She gazed imploringly at Clay and the policemen. "Did I...? I didn't-I wouldn't!" she cried.
Clay gave her a pitying look and motioned for her to sit back down. "Here," he said soothingly, "let me take that from you." He reached out for the knife, hoping she would hand it to him.
She started to hand it over, but froze with her eyes staring at his arm. "Blue," she said coldly, clutching the knife tighter.
"What?" he said sharply, wondering what the hell was wrong with the girl.
"I hate blue," she hissed, beginning to shake with rage and fear. It was all coming back to her now; what had happened to her parents.
The paramedic regarded her oddly, assuming that she was going into shock. "I don't understand...what's blue?"
Megan glanced up at him, with hatred in her glassy eyes. "Your arms," she spat. "They're blue. Blue all over!"
With a jolt of shock, he realized that she was referring to his veins that could be seen in his wrist when he reached out for the knife. Before he could react, Megan lashed out with her knife, cutting one of his wrists open. He yelped in pain, calling out for the policemen. "Cover your wrists!" he told them. "Cover anything blue!"
"Go away!" Megan growled. "Damn you, blue. Go away!" She lashed out again, needing to get rid of all the blue she saw. Clay screamed in pain, trying to stench the blood flow and avoid her knife at the same time. He was not succeeding on either account.
One of the policemen tackled her from the side, managing to knock the knife out of her hand. He pinned her to the floor while he wrestled with the handcuffs. "It's gone," Megan crooned. "All the blue is gone!" She let out a light laugh and sighed happily. "I fixed him. Just like I fixed Mommy and Daddy."
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:D yes well...this was supposed to be a mini blurb on hoochie's wall but then i got too into it and made it longer :) so yes, reasonably different from what I usually write, but it's a nice little change :)
xoxo nich *evil grin*
