Story cover for Greyscale by sugalolLYpop
Greyscale
  • WpView
    LECTURAS 66
  • WpVote
    Votos 10
  • WpPart
    Partes 1
  • WpHistory
    Hora 8m
  • WpView
    LECTURAS 66
  • WpVote
    Votos 10
  • WpPart
    Partes 1
  • WpHistory
    Hora 8m
Concluida, Has publicado sep 07, 2016
Do you wake up every morning and gaze up at the sunrise, feeling the gentle rays of sunshine stroking your skin? Or do you lounge outside in the evening, watching the golden sun as it dips lower into the earth, leaving behind streaks of purple and red?

Do you admire the beautiful rainbow, as it emerges from behind the clouds, resplendent in all its colours?

Do you trace over the lovingly etched lines of a painting, created from a combination of simple colours to form a work of art?

I can't.

I live in a greyscale world. All the magnificent colours of the rainbow, the brilliant sunrise, or the warm sunset are of the same grey tints to me. My favourite season is winter, because that's the only time when everyone has to experience the same thing which I've known all my life. That's the only time when everyone has to share my little greyscale world. I couldn't appreciate the magic of colours, because I didn't know colours. How could I, when I'd been like this all my life?

I thought I would never know colours...that is, until I met him.

My name is Emma, short for Emerald, and I was named after the colour of my eyes, which I can't see.
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"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.