The Color of Grey

_Chapter One_

We live in the comfortable, rainy state of Virginia. Even though we have about eight million people living here, there's still only about a handful I know of. That might only be because we live in the least populated city in Virginia,Alexandria City, or just because I'm not very social...or popular. I was born color blind, so ever since I told Summer Alamaster that her sixth grade dress for the dance didn't have any color to me she's hated me to the core. It really wasn't my fault though. I mean, it was literally grey to me.

Having a lack of color in everything I see makes things kind of... sad. It's just the way of how everything I see is black and white that makes it depressing. You'd want to see the color of flowers or the way the paint thins and combines with the color of the canvas as the brush is stroked against it. For me, it'd be a blessing to see the color of coffee. Even though I can't see, I have a pretty good idea about what things are shaded as. For example, I just know that skies during the day are blue and during the night time, they're black. I can also tell by the way my little brother, Evin, learned to tell colors by repeating what my parents said. My mother would say that a toy was green, and he'd say green too. He does that with everything now, so I just call him my seeing- eye baby.

"Sav, do you wanna go down to the store with me?" my mom called from downstairs. I thought about the people that I might see there. The thing about having social anxiety is that the less people you run into, the better.      "Savannah? I need to know now, honey I have to leave," she called impatiently from the bottom of the stairs.

"Uh, yeah I'll go. Just give me five minutes," I begin to grab my things and start out of my bedroom. As we get in the car, my Arctic Monkeys album begins to play in the background. My mom sighs before turning it to the classical Beatles.

I enjoy the older bands; Green Day, Nirvana, and even the Beatles on a  good day. Arctic Monkeys are probably my favorite though. They're London's favorite too.

London is my bestfriend. She's been there since birth. We grew up in our blue jean overalls with red striped shirt and pigtails everyday to school. We ate eachother's animal crackers and dranks eachother's applejuice. We only get to hang out every weekend because she's part of the cheer squad. We took completely different roads when highschool started, but still stayed bestfriends. She has a boyfriend who doesn't really like me, but she managed to keep us both in her life. London is a pretty extraordinary person, if I do say so myself.

"Savannah, you're just out of it today," my mother chuckles. I smile slightly, but it doesn't stay too long.

She doesn't even know the half of it.