Ever since I could remember, my view was filled with different colors. At that time I thought it was normal. The room I had stayed in as a baby was painted a bright yellow, was what I had always thought, but, according to my parents it had always been a baby blue.


    Not just my room, my sky had always been purple, the grass, orange, or sometimes pink or black. It wasn’t just limited to objects, living things, animals, as well as other people had their own color. After observing these colors for many years I’ve become able to tell what they mean.


    Red depending on the shade can be love, ambition, or anger.


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    Yellow, happiness, joy, or jealousy.


    Blue, loyalty, confidence, or integrity.


    Though there are many more, naming them would be a pain.


    At first I found it fun to be able to read others, but in the end, some things are better off unseen.


    To shield my eyes, I’ve begun to wear sunglasses, and lived a monochromatic life. With black and white I couldn’t see as clearly anymore. Such as the stop light. Unable to tell what color light it was, I had unexpectedly walked into my death.


    When I had awakened, I was a baby, literally.