A/N: I started this in June last year, and I just finished it. Man, I am a slow writer. But the finished product was worth it! ^^ Enjoy!

Just FYI, this isn't related to the Vocaloid song 'Monochrome Ward'. I just liked it.


The room was so monochrome, so white, so black, so gray. She used to miss the outside world and all its color, but she'd gotten used to the colors of the room after so long. Half of her knew that she should be trying her best to get out, but the other half had already given up long ago.

Nobody came to visit her anymore, not her parents, not her siblings…nobody. Perhaps they had forgotten about her? The girl tilted her head, wondering if they had. She stared into the white wall in front of her, then at the panel that was on it. She'd always wondered what that mysterious panel meant. She hadn't been able to read the handwriting on it; it was too messy and it reminded her of black chalk scribbles.

But then again she wasn't really interested in it.

She was more interested in watching the plain gray clock on the wall, waiting for the time where someone – besides the tall man with the clipboard – would come in and say hello to her. She hadn't spoken for over a year, and she entertained herself with the thought that if she tried to speak, only dust would come out.

She still remembered the day, the day when her parents had told her gently, "We're just going to send you away for a while. It won't be long, darling," and placed her in this monochrome, colorless room.

Only for a while, they had said. It had probably been more than one year – she had lost track of time after two weeks – since she had been put in this room. She liked to think of herself as a stuffed toy that a child has grown tired of and thrown in the back of a cupboard to rot into nothingness.

She lifted a pale hand up, stretching her fingers. She couldn't help herself; it just looked so funny, and she let out a small giggle. Her eyes flew wide open, and she pulled the hand back to rest on her pale pink lips.

So she was capable of making a sound! How interesting!

The young girl stood up and danced around the room, so ecstatic that her voice was still working. She landed on the bed in the corner of the room, still grinning happily. The smile stretched across her lips was so wide that the dry skin of those pink lips began to crack.


She still wanted somebody to play with.

The tall man with the clipboard never wanted to play with her, even when she tried to persuade him into playing a small game of tag with her. She felt sad and cooped up in the tiny room every single day, yet they never played any games with her.

She gazed at the ceiling, its white reminding her of snow and other things that were white. Its color was oddly comforting even though it was all she saw, day after day. Yawning, she curled up in a corner of the bed and waited for herself to slip into the darkness of sleep.

Flowers, the spring field, fresh air…it was almost like heaven to her as she lay on the grass in a green field. The red poppies around her danced in the wind, and she picked one of them, setting it in her hair as she giggled childishly. Twirling a strand of hair around a finger, she gazed at the pale blue sky with its fluffy white clouds.

She'd always wondered what would happen if she grew wings, flew into the sky and tried to hug a cloud. Were clouds like giant floating pillows? Or would they just go through your arms like mist? Or were they like squishy marshmallows?

Abruptly, she found herself propelled into the sky by an invisible force, and she laughed in delight as wings sprouted from her back. She attempted to hug one of the giant clouds in the sky, and found that it passed through her arms, just like mist.

She saw two white doves flying past her, into the distance, and she tried to follow them, but her wings disappeared in a flash and she found herself falling down, down, down…

The girl jerked as she was brought back into reality, just in time as the door opened and the tall man came in, holding a dark blue clipboard in his arms as usual. Disappointed, she curled up tighter and tried to fall asleep again, to continue that delightful, colorful dream she had. Unfortunately, she just couldn't get back to sleep, and she soon gave up, stretching and looking at the man.

In his usual boring tone, he started to ask her the same questions as he did all the time. She never answered any of them, despite his constant perseverance. Then, as he stood up to leave, she tugged on his long white sleeve and asked him to play a game with her. He sighed and replied with a no, then turned and left.

Then it was just her and the monochrome ward, all over again.

She looked at the door. It was a plain white door, with a strange-looking thing on it. She intently studied the thing for a few minutes, trying to identify what it was. She'd never looked at it for the entire time she'd been here, and it interested her terribly.

Timidly stretching out a hand, she grabbed hold of the thing and twisted. As she watched in shock, the door opened and she nearly fell out the doorway. Holding out her arms to balance herself, she took a look at the surroundings.

More white, more black, more gray…

Where was it? Where was the bright sunshine and colorful flowers?

Her eyes drifted to a door that looked just like the one she had just exited. Maybe she could find them there!

The girl twisted the round thing, and – to her surprise and enjoyment – the door opened to reveal another patient, sitting on his bed with a terrified expression on his face. His eyes – large, amber and round – fixed on her as she entered the room slowly, and his face morphed into one of horror. The black-haired patient screamed and hid under the blankets, shivering.

She frowned. His eyes had been such a lovely shade of yellow, she wanted – no, she needed to see them again. She needed to keep them with her everywhere she went…

Looking around the room, she located a metal spoon. The spoon was made of mixed metals, so it was relatively soft and shapeable. Darting over to the door, she started to rub the spoon against the door. Rubbing, rubbing…

Soon, she had a sharp metal pick in her hands.

The patient was still huddled underneath the covers, now whimpering softly every few seconds. Curiously, she crept up to the bundle of sheets, and poked at it childishly with the pick that she had. A yelp sounded from inside the bundle, and a small patch of red suddenly bloomed on the pale white sheets.

Her eyes widened. Red...red...red..! Looking at the pick, she noticed that the tip of the pick – which was rather sharp – also had some red on it. Fascinated, she stabbed at the bundle again with the pick.

The patient screamed, and thrashed around. The girl frowned, tightening her hold on the pick and continuing to poke the patient with its tip. The more times she poked, the more red came out.

Finally, I get to see some color! The girl thought, happy to be seeing that beautiful dark crimson color. The monochrome ward was full of whites, blacks, and grays...nothing else.

Nothing except this nice shade of red.

The girl wanted to paint a picture with it, but then she realized that she didn't have enough, and the real reason why she had made a pick was to get the patient's eyes. Looking back at the patient, she noticed that he had thrown the covers off himself, and his eyes were the exact representation of horror. Jumping onto the bed, she plunged the pick into the middle of his chest. A large amount of the red liquid – pretty, pretty crimson – splashed onto the sheets, and the beautiful amber eyes dulled. The patient froze, completely motionless.

Excited, she crawled forward and peered at his face. The facial features were frozen into an utterly shocked expression, but that wasn't what she wanted. The once-bright amber eyes were dull and ugly. She was disappointed, but she still decided to take the eyes; after all, they had once been alight with that burning fire of life, and they had belonged to such an interesting person – even though she had not known him for any longer than ten minutes.

As she removed the pick from the patient's chest, she accidentally sliced the chest open. Squealing in fright, she dropped the pick and back-paddled as fast as she could, nearly falling off the bed. Cautiously, she inched forwards to take a closer look at what was in the chest.

There were two giant pink things – which were of no interest to her – and one fist-shaped, red-colored object. She desperately tried to remember its name. A...a heart..? Was that what it was? Grabbing the pick up again, she hacked away at the veins and arteries connecting the heart to the body, careful not to damage it, and pulled it out of the chest cavity.

Placing it in her pocket, she returned to her task of removing the eyes. Not long after, she had two amber orbs sitting in the palm of her hand. Prodding at one of them, she giggled childishly, then shoved it into her pocket along with the heart.

Creeping over to the door again, she took one last, longing look at the red-covered room. How much she wanted to stay in there – with all the color – but she had to leave. She wanted to find the outside world again.

Turning the round thing on the door, she peered out. There was nobody in sight. The pick clutched tightly in her small palm, she walked out the door, and caught sight of another similar door. Excited at the thought of finding more color, she hurried towards the other door and opened it.

A woman with strawberry brown hair lay sleeping in the bed, her eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell evenly, and she sighed in her sleep. The young girl inched towards the sleeping figure, cautiously peering at her face. She wondered what color the woman's eyes were. Did they complement her hair? Or did they contrast it?

Lifting the pick again, she gently prodded the woman in the face. The brunette flinched, turning away from the girl. Small droplets of red slid down her pale face. The girl's eyes widened. Color! More red! She poked the woman's back, this time a lot harder than before. Bright crimson bloomed across the blankets wrapped around the slim body and the woman yelped, sitting upright immediately.

Her eyes were a pinkish brown color, complementing her hair perfectly. Without wasting any more time, the girl tightened her grip on the pick and was about to plunge it into the woman's chest when a thought suddenly hit her.

Maybe I should take her eyes first...I don't want them to be dull and ugly again.

Changing her mind, the girl went for the woman's brown eyes, burying the pick into the socket as screams ripped themselves from the poor woman's throat. At last, the girl loosened the eyeball, tearing it right out of the socket. She did the same with the other, then dropped both the brown orbs into her pocket with the amber eyes and the red heart.

The woman was sobbing pathetically, clutching at her empty eye sockets in pain. The girl looked at her, then back to the pick. She wanted the heart. Lunging forwards, she ripped the woman's entire chest open, ignoring the flailing arms smacking at her head.

A sickening crack sounded as the girl forced the woman's ribcage open, to gain access to the organs protected by it. She moved the two big pink masses aside, and then her hand closed around the nice, taut globe of the heart.

Yes! She thought in victory, tugging at the arteries and veins that held the heart in place. Just several more hard pulls and the heart was hers. She quickly yanked it out, stuffing it into her pocket. The girl looked around the room, admiring its pretty color. Red, red everywhere! How pleasant...

Wanting to find the outside world, she left, opening and closing the door as she went. Locating another similar door in the white, disgusting place, she opened it and went in.

There was a crouched figure at the window, shaking hands placed on its cold glass. Long blonde hair spilled down the figure's back, and as the person turned, she caught sight of a terrified, scared face. His eyes were a slightly darker shade of his hair, not unlike the amber orbs she had in her pocket.

"Who...who are you?"

The voice was soft and unsure, and the boy crawled forwards, closer and closer to her. She closed the door, and turned back to him. He placed a hand on her face. It was cold and felt strange to her. The fingers were long and pale. The girl continued to stare at him.

Grabbing the pick out of her slack hands, the boy turned it around in his slender hands, observing it. All that red was all over the pick, and it smeared onto the boy's white fingers as he turned it around and around. The girl watched him, intrigued.

In a sudden, swift movement, the boy grabbed the pick like a weapon and plunged it right into his own wrist. The girl back-paddled, letting out a quiet shriek of terror as more red spurted out of the wound in his wrist. The boy was laughing now, a horrible, unpleasant sound. He yanked the pick out of his wrist, slitting it further. Red splashed.

For once, the girl started to feel more than slightly disturbed. That crazed look on the boy's face as he slashed at his wrists was horrendous. With a last burst of laughter, the boy grabbed the pick and slammed it right into his throat. He coughed and wheezed, hacked up more red, then collapsed on his side, the pick protruding out of his neck.

Horrified, the girl inched backwards, until her back made contact with the door. Panting hard, she looked in front of her. This room, strangely, was the only one with a mirror. Looking hard into the mirror, she saw red splashed all over her, soaking her clothes in large amounts.

Her eyes widened and she crawled over to the mirror. Standing up slowly, she noticed a bright square in the wall. What was it? Could the outside world be there? After all, she'd gone through so many doors. Perhaps the world was through the square! Standing up slowly, she grabbed the side of the square and pulled herself up.

Without warning, she toppled through the square. A yelp tore itself from her throat as she fell. She looked around in fright, and saw...so many colors. The green of the trees, the blue of the sky, the red and orange of the flowers in the bush, and the dull gray of the pavement that she was slowly and surely rushing towards...



A/N: The ending was kinda abrupt...but personally this is one of my favourites that I've written. :]