If I wasn't given a word limit in English tests.
If I can't do anything else.
If I'm too sick of the world to make sense of it, so I create another one.
If I give everyone in my head a voice and a story (I swear I'm not crazy yet).
It's a compila...
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The Last Sunset
The world had never looked anymore beautiful than it did then.
The sky was a hum of colour, from the setting sun's flaring red, to the dawning moon's bruise blue. The buildings, stern and in strict lines, was now fading into some storybook fantasy, with shadows stretching its fingers over their walls. Even the trees were transforming, from the bustling leaves in the gust to the sky whisper of the wind. Andrea decided it was the perfect scene to paint.
Lost in the austere atmosphere with hazel eyes riveted to the clouds, her feet crossed the road on her own. For the life of her, filled with colours, she could not notice the two stark spotlights blazing straight at her, nor the screaming car's honk, or even the sickening crunch of flesh against car. Her world, so filled with colours before, went black.
Andrea woke up after what seemed like a millisecond's worth of a millennia, dazed and confused. The spring of a hospital's bed dug into her back as a nurse hovered over her, who expected her to ask who she is, or where she is.
"Why is everything so... bland?"
The impact of the car crash had knocked her out cold, a dreadful wound straight onto her head. The fretful driver had phoned an ambulance, which promptly took her to the hospital, where she had an abrupt surgery. The nurse tried to explain all of this to poor Andrea, but she did nothing but stare at the window in disbelief.
Why is the sky so black? Why are the walls, supposedly the colour of white-washed sand, so white? Why is everything in colourless grey? Why did the nurse looked like she stepped out from a monochrome photograph?
The surgeons may have saved her life, but they might as well as killed her, while taking away the one thing her life revolved around, colours. They saved her sight, but not what she could see. 'You're colourblind now,' only those words penetrated through her confused fog of a mind.
Andrea realised, the past hour of her life had transformed her, from an ambitious painter hoping to revolutionise the art world, into a cripple, with a heavy, wrapped-up head, with nothing to look forward to except seeing the world in black and white.
She realised, the sunset that she had enjoyed earlier, was her last sunset.
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Shoutout to my English teacher suggesting to use 'colourless grey' instead 'monochrome'.
