Whitewash

Whitewash

Every night she would have the dream. That dream. She'd be walking down a long corridor and at the end someone would open a door and she'd be shoved inside this little white room, white everywhere. The walls and ceiling and floor all threw off this white, ambient light. And she'd turn around, mesmerized until she saw it, until she saw him.

First just a little black smear then it'd grow and grow and his shape would appear. And she'd try to scream but no words would come out. So she would whirl around to open the door but there was nothing there. She'd pound on the wall, screaming silently for help as his black image became a stain engulfing her little white world, and then he's say it,

"I'm going to rip you apart."

Every morning she'd wake up, drenched in sweat, her throat sore from screams that would never escape. Tears would trickle down from her exhausted eyes and her knuckles would be white from clutching the edge of her bed. But then she'd close them, close her tired eyes and lock the door to her little white world. "Never again," she'd whisper, "never again."

Then that day came, that fateful day, that distinct day. She submerged her head in the water, the floor slightly wet as water dripped onto the floor from the overflowing bathtub. She stared up at the white ceiling, her breath slowly leaving her. She watched the reflection of the light on the surface of the water growing ever higher above her. She felt the blackness consuming her vision. 'Let this be the end of it all,' she thought. But then it came, flying past her darkening sight, bright colors, vivid blues and shocking reds. And she realized she wanted to live.

She turned toward to closed white door, she could feel him behind it, waiting for her. "Never again," she whispered, clinging to a thread of hope, hope that had been so long in coming. She flung the door open, vibrant colors swirling behind her. No longer would she be haunted by this colorless world dominated by black and white. There he stood in front of her, his malicious grin always the same. No longer would she be controlled by this overwhelming fear. "Never again!" she yelled at him.

His grin faded and he began to disappear. "No!" He screamed in fury and panic, grasping for her as the color invaded her white world. This is why she wanted to live, for the color, for the joy, the laughter, and the tears. She embraced it and she spun gathering the color into her arms.

"Never again," she smiled, "Never again."