White Walls

Chapter 3:

I have been told I relate emotions to colours and after 'that' incident red and black would put me into a panicked state. My mind would waver and I had no control, scars, harm, bruises, tears, sobs, I couldn't stop any of it. My mind was no longer mine but a lair for demons to lounge around and torture my mind. But white was calming and lonely. The demons couldn't reach me there. My mind was blank and in my control now. It was soft and plain. Vibrancy would make my mind worse but white was just simple. It was solitude. The doctors told me this so I would understand what was wrong with me. Synesthesia is a condition where a person gives objects, numbers or letters colours or personalities. I see a colour and it triggers certain emotions in my brain that I can't control.

Although I was stuck in a white room with white things the rest of my days could be considered normal, or at least what I thought was normal. I was fed food in a white cup with a lid and a straw so I couldn't see the colours and I had a teacher who would ask me questions that I would answer, but no writing, no black ink. I listened to music and danced around but anything that involved my sight was not aloud. No tv or video games or anything colourful.

Occasionally my parents would come by to visit but the gaps between their visits got bigger over the years. It used to be daily, then weekly, monthly and now just a few times a year if they can make it. I understand though, they didn't want to deal with a traumatized child who couldn't leave a room and you had to wear all white and come in with nothing when visiting. Then they would say they missed me and loved me but other than that what could you say to someone who could be so easily triggered. I was like a ticking time bomb. A teenager who could become extremely depressed and uncontrollable at any second. I was told I would be here for the rest of my life and I was already 16.

The doctors offered for me to end it. I would finally reach full solitude but I couldn't do that. That would be like walking straight into the arms of my demons. Of course I hurt myself but it just made it worse. Once and only once I cut myself with my nails that had grown very long but after that I was put in full quarantine because the sight of blood made me go manic and violent. I wasn't allowed to grow my nails anymore.

I wasn't even allowed to see my friends but I guess that was my fault. I broke down the first time I saw my best friend because she had pure black eyes and the doctors didn't realise all of my doctors had calming blue eyes. From then on any doctors with dark eyes had to wear white glasses that had a tinted white filter so I couldn't see their eyes.