P
ink-Happiness
Hot Pink-Attraction
Light Red-Love
Red-Lust
Dark Red-Hate
Rust-Discomfort
Bright Orange-Curiosity
Orange-Excitement
Dark Orange-Suspicion
Brown-Illness
Light Yellow-Cowardice
Yellow-Fear
Deep Yellow-Bravery
Light Green-Envy
Green-Greed
Dark Green-Jealousy
Teal-Shock
Turquoise-Serenity
Light Blue-Sadness
Blue-Melancholy
Dark Blue-Depression
Lavender-Passion
Periwinkle-Annoyance
Violet-Anger
Purple-Rage
Copper- Embarrassment
Hazel-Nervousness
Brown-Sickness
White-Purity
Christopher
I have been sitting in the back of a war jeep for at least three hours and every bit of it has been torture. I feel dead. I wish I was. I am guilty of something disgusting. More than that, my only friend is dead because of me. My hair is rust, yellow, blue, copper, and hazel. I wish I could hide it.
I was a fool to think that those people would actually be cured and I know that now. But it’s too late. I have no idea what to do at this point. I am completely and utterly lost.
The jeep jumps around as we continue along the bumpy road.
“Um, where are we going again?” I ask the man driving.
“HQ,” He says. The man is gruff and has a beard of dark stubble.
“When are we supposed to get there?” I feel small and stupid asking this man questions, and he seems to be annoyed.
“We’ll be there in 15 minutes, kid,” The man says before he sighs dramatically.
The gray building looms up in front of us like the grim reaper. The jeep pulls up faster than I want it to. The gruff man steps out of the car and I follow suit. We make it into the building and walk through the bleak, empty hallways. Suddenly the man opens up a door and gestures for me to go in.
I walk into a room full of people sitting around a large conference table and they are all staring right at me. My hair hasn’t changed since I left the car, but I know at this point the copper just intensified.
“Ah, Mr. Robinson. Have a seat,” A British sounding and looking woman gestures to a seat after addressing me. I cautiously sit down, setting my phone on the table.
“Uh... I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m here,” I say, very uncomfortably with everyone continuing to stare at me aggressively. The British woman looks at me somehow with even more intensity.
“Mr. Robinson, on your last assignment, you did tolerably. On this next assignment I expect you to do much better. You got Miss. Nichole Tenrix to Neighborhood 511, but you didn’t make sure she stayed there. Do you understand?”
My eyebrows furrow. “No. I’m sorry no, I don’t understand. What do you mean I didn’t make sure she stayed there?”
British woman looks over her glasses. “Nichole is gone. We were unable to terminate two of the residents, her and a boy the same age. This is your doing. You will track her down, and personally kill her.”
I look around. There’s a mirror on my left. My hair isn’t anything at all. It’s there but it isn’t a color. It reminds me of water. What am I feeling? I feel nothing. I’m numb. Suddenly gray and yellow returns and I look back.
“I don’t know how I would go about tracking her. She could be absolutely anywhere. I think we should wait for her to come to us,” I say this knowing it will be shot down but taking any chance I can to keep Nichole alive. I still can’t believe she’s alive and I am going to keep it that way.
My phone starts vibrating. I look down to see a call from Nichole. Everyone is staring at it.
“Pick it up. We will direct you in the conversation,” An authority on my left says this.
I can’t pick it up. But I can’t leave it there, unanswered either. I force my hand down and lift the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I say the lonely word numbly. I hope with my entire soul that Nicole doesn’t respond. That it was a mistake.
“Christopher? Oh my goodness. I can’t believe you’re alright! Where are you? I can come pick you up!” Nicole sounds too happy but I try to ignore it so that the others don’t notice. A dark woman on my right gestures for me to answer. I tell Nicole where I am. What other choice do I possibly have?
Nicole ends the conversation and the people surrounding me cheer. I drown the sounds out with thoughts of concern and worry.
“Well Mr. Robinson, I underestimated you. I’m thrilled with the prospect of the target coming directly to us. Good work,” British woman says.
People congratulate me but I feel like absolute garbage inside. I’m left wondering what I do next.
YOU ARE READING
Plain Until Proven Beautiful
RomanceNicole isn't like the other people in her world. While the rest of her society has color changing hair that depicts their emotions, her hair is stuck. It's brown and never changes. Shunned by her community Nicole is alone. That is until she meets Ch...
