By Faiz Akbor, aged 15
The majority of our people here are made of clear glass. Not a single spec of dust on their smooth skin. You can see right through them for they have no hidden stories or secrets to tell.
Some were grey. They felt no remorse and were distant. Their hearts were as dull as their exterior and the other colours didn’t want anything to do with them.
There were also the blue people. They were loved and were so in tune with their feelings as well as their surroundings, they were as deep as the oceans and had so much depth and stories to tell. So pure and precious.
Then there were the red. They were dangerous and rare, people craved them for they were such an intense colour.
He was grey and she was blue.
He was always grey. Emotionless and lifeless; just another cloudy soul that felt no remorse with a distorted image. Too many secrets and hatred in him to be such a admiring colour.
They say that love is blind, she was colour blind. She was too blind to see that her love for him wasn’t the same as his love for her. She didn’t see the detest he held by the corpse within in him. The words he told her were misleading and lies; the love and beauty he held were near to non existent, though she didn’t mind. Her heart was so foolishly in love trying to see the good in him she didn’t sense that she was drowning from manipulation and betrayal.
She wanted to turn him red. She wanted to show him that his tainted soul can recover from these shades of grey. And so, all the love and passion and stories she had held in her heart were all dedicated to him. She felt so intensely about him and wanted give him her everything. She searched for the most raw textures and colours to paint delicately over his soot-covered heart.
Soon enough he became red. His love, his passion and stories.
She found him so beautiful. The scars and bruises on his rough skin looked like a corrupt sonnet. To her, he was a sonnet. One of those tragically exquisite ones with short, unfamiliar words that sound beautiful when read out. He looked like the type of poem she yearned to write about.
And she was content. Their colours together collided perfectly and over washed the dullness they once both held. She saved him in every way a person can be saved from the shades of grey.
He finally showed his true colours.
And he softly whispered in her ear, “baby girl, I’m the king and you’re the queen, let’s make our grey dreams turn gold and show these crystal people some colour.”
And everything was colourful. Their stories, their dreams and their love.
He was red and she was blue. Then he touched her and suddenly she was a soft lilac sky. So tender and delicate and indescribably happy.
But then he decided purple wasn’t for him.
And so he said, “baby girl, you got too addicted, I’m the king of everything and my lips are a weapon. These kisses made you weak, you aren’t so pure any more.”
And he was always grey. His dreams, his stories and his smoke.
He truly showed his true colours.
Truth be told, he’s become one of the most ethereal shades of grey and its all due to her. The colourful passion, stories and love slightly over-washed the cloudiness on his tainted soul. Unfortunately the grey elements that are etched in his heart will never let him love properly. Once he realised that he’s changed into a shade of grey that people smiled towards, he didn’t know how to react. And so he reacted the only way he knew how to. He became cold, distant and shut her out because that’s what he knows best. He’s just so devoid of colour he didn’t understand what he felt.
His grey kisses ruined her. She’s not as pure as she was before, nor is she as passionate. She has become a shade of blue that made other people look curiously at her for she has become someone else. All the stories, love and passion were drained out of her as they were given to him. She was once a deep, electric blue that influenced people just by being her effortless self, but now she’s just a faint blue nearly turning grey. However, she still has elements of blue speckled in her soul that will always stay and if she learns to love herself again, she’ll remain blue. She’ll blossom slowly and softly till she’s as deep and blue as the oceans like she had been once.
Throughout that time nothing and everything changed. He was grey and she was blue.
Together they were both grey. Their stories, their dreams and their love.