Life became misery. M-I-S-E-R-Y, the letters together were maroon. I slithered through my days, head hung low, belly flat against the ground. Visions of a happy future had crash landed, shattered into pieces, rolled, tumbled and clanged on concrete. I walked quietly through the halls at school, I whimpered in the library at lunchtime, I sucked on a pen lid during class time, I threw nostalgia at the ten pins of malcontent. Jarvis was the blanket that had warmed me, now I was frozen and there was no warmth in sight.
At home I slammed doors so that Alistair would know where I was in the house. I slammed cupboard doors in the kitchen, keep away you freak, I'm cooking in here. Sit in your room with your diapers, shit in them, wee in them, wank in them. What do I care? As long as I don't have to see your stupid face. I went weeks without catching a glimpse of him.
Seeing my dad was the hardest, because I suspected he could detect the maroon misery in me. He asked me with his eyes if I was all right. I think he was too afraid to know the truth: that his daughter was suffering, that she had no dreams any longer, that her heart has been minced, her husband was a liability, she was lost out at sea and could no longer see any land.
I spoke to my sister and she told me I could double the medication. It created a cushion around my feelings. Everything felt softer, more bearable. The colours became brighter, there were shapes and strokes of colour almost all the time now. I couldn't remember any longer if it was always like this? Where has the world gone? It was covered in colours so blinding it was like looking straight at the sun.
YOU ARE READING
Silver
Novela JuvenilSylvie, 16, sees colours, where other people only hear words or feel emotions. She knows she has to keep this a secret - as people disappear to institutions if they get sick in the mind. *** Sylvie likes to dress in Lolita outfits and dreams of beco...
