Colours

The white light splits into seven different vibrant colours. Colours of the rainbow, colours of life. The beauty of these colours reach your eyes when you look out of the window, at the various shades of green, blue, yellow, grey and the colourless yet colourful white of the cotton candy soft clouds. The coloured neon lights in the disco leave you entranced but what happens when the white light no longer splits to show your eyes that magnificence? When all the colours vanish?

You see only black. I see only black, haunting and endless. My colours vanished...

Tracing two fingers over the prominent scar, I felt a painful jolt of nostalgia. The time I had my colours, the time I could see. Yes, I did have sight but that was before and this is now. Now I yearn to see the colour, parrot green, which before I hated to even cross my line of vision. Before, my preference for the colour black was obsessive. Now, I loathe it. The only thing I can see is the frightening black, the price of blindness. The scar, the aftermath of the life changing encounter, decorated itself on my face in a perfect clean line across my eyes. From one temple to another.

Memories of the last images I saw before the permanent lights off, I have not forgotten.

There was a familiar black book, with white bold yet plain letters at the top and the name of the author at the bottom, on the floor of my bedroom. As I turned to see the cause of the noise on the floor, right behind the plain black book were a pair of brown swed dress shoes with a small buckle on top. The buckle shone as it reflected the lights in the room. I slowly began to raise my head to look at the owner of the splendid shoes but acute pain on my face stopped my actions. After that I just fell to the ground, clutching my face, feeling warm sticky liquid cover the skin on my face and my hands. As a result of the intense pain I fainted. However before I passed out, my attacker's voice echoed in the silent room,

"I've finally got mine."

Confusion seeped into my screaming mind.

When I awoke on a foreign bed with bandages on my face, the first thing I felt was nerve wrecking pain but my mind worked despite that.

I remembered the title of the book...'Revenge'.

Realization hit me like a pile of rocks. My profession as lawyer, no, I had taken the colours out of that man's, my attacker's, life. My words had sentenced this man to a world of black and white for 5 years. He, however, took my colours differently and forever...

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