The World In Color

iv

I couldn’t decide what to write. I had been hovering over my desk for two hours trying to write my essay for English and had so far, only written my name. My essay was over the history of the colours. I was supposed to write about when people first discovered what was causing them and what people believed before we discovered the truth. I couldn’t bring myself to writing because every time I figured out how to start it, I thought of my own situation.

“Zar, honey, supper is ready!” I could tell my mom was worried because I hadn’t hardly said a word to her since Sam told her about the colours.

“I’m not hungry tonight!”

“Is there-”

“No, Mom! Nothing is wrong!” She didn’t bother replying. I was actually glad. The only thing I wanted to do right now was sit and wait for the newspaper to come out tomorrow and hope they didn’t put my ad in it.

***

When I woke up my head was pounding; another bad dream. I got some advil and tried to get back to sleep but I couldn’t. My mind wouldn’t turn off and let me sleep. I kept recounting the story of my sister and imagining the same thing happening to me. I wiped my forehead with my shirt and began to relax. I had never been this afraid of anything before. The past two nights I had been having trouble sleeping and I wasn’t eating much. What happened to my sister was beginning to consume me and that in itself was enough to terrify me. I hadn’t even talked to Sam since she left the house, and this never occurred. Sam and I were almost always together and when we weren’t we couldn’t put our phones down. I already had thirty-one messages and ten missed calls from her. I couldn’t bring myself to care though; the only thing I could think about was protecting myself from the rejection my sister received.  I had already had enough rejection in my life.

“Zar! Thank God you finally answered. I was about to call the police.” Sam’s voice rang through the phone as I answered her call.

“What kind of person calls people at two-thirty in the morning?” I ask. I was already regretting answering the phone.

“The kind that cares about their best friend. Now, will you explain to me why you haven’t been eating these past couple of days?”

“I’m just nervous, that’s all.” I didn’t want to share with her about my fear that the colours were consuming me. I didn’t want her to think I was even more messed up in the head than she already thought. I was sure that if she knew how truly bad I was, she would leave.

“There’s no need to be nervous. What happened to your sister rarely ever happens. And what happened to her was not why she committed suicide. I know that you miss her and that you feel responsible for her death; for not realising how close to the edge she truly was, but it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have been expected to know. And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she wouldn’t have expected you to realise. Cameran was an astounding actress.”

“But I was her sister!” I couldn’t help but scream this. I always kept my emotions hidden. I didn’t ever want my parents to think that I was as bad as Cam had been. I felt that if I cried, they would think of her. I didn’t want to put them through anymore pain so I rarely cried in front of them. “I should have known! I was closer to her than anyone else; we were best friends!” I didn’t even bother holding back my anguish.

“You were not the only one who cared about her so don’t even pretend like you are- were. I loved her. Okay? I loved her. We were friends for years! For years!”

“I know that you guys were good friends, okay? I know that! I didn’t say you weren’t. I’m simply saying that I was closer to her than anyone else. You may have had a crush on her, but she was straight! Yeah, she may have loved you in a friend way, but she loved me more. I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s true.”