I opened my eyes, forcing my mind back to reality of the present world. The silent coldness of my reality replaced the joyful warmth of my memories. I was wearing a black t-shirt which had sunflowers printed on it. It was morning, the perfect time for sunflowers to bloom.
But the place where I am standing, neither sunlight nor a ray of hope seemed to enter the cage like windows which I had closed.
I slowly forced myself away from the wall and moved to the kitchen to make breakfast, but I was feeling full, even though I hadn't eaten anything. I made a bowl of oats and walked towards the cold piece of furniture which had drained of coziness while its buyer waited for the return of a ship that had long sailed. I sat down, taking a spoon-full of my breakfast into my mouth. I remember, the same dish used to feel like comfort to me, sweet and warm. But now, it just felt tasteless, or maybe my emotions were too damaged to register my actual senses.
It was now 09:30 a.m., the sun was shining more brightly at the present moment, causing the entire neighbourhood to look vibrant and sharp. My eyes saw a dull, faded and blurry world, with each face of the adults carrying similar unshared pain and each face of the children filled with happiness and smiles like every adult did when they were young. I continued to eat oats as many thoughts flashed through my mind, a hundred images per second, but the images and their implications were clear as day.
I kept the empty bowl on the bed side table and leaned my head back against the headrest of the bed before I closed my eyes yet again.
In my mind's eye, I saw a girl, of age eight, wearing a yellow t-shirt and orange pants. She had a goofy smile on her face as she played with her little sister, who turned one year old that day, and other cousins who had come to visit them on the occasion of her sister's birthday. They were playing with Barbie dolls and her sister's plushie toys. All the kids, including her, had huge smiles on their faces. The living room was decorated with balloons of every colour in the rainbow, the atmosphere was lively and full of enjoyment.
The adults were gossiping in the other room, the chuckles caused by random jokes that were cracked along with the laughter that had escaped the mouths of the young ones, together synchronised into the perfect harmony that echoed through the rooms of her house. Everyone seemed so happy and joyful, no sadness was felt in those walls of enjoyment. She was dancing and smiling like everyone else in the room. Their innocent hearts had no idea about the real world, its reality, its beliefs and its cruelty.
I opened my eyes again and lifted my head to look at the picture frame nailed to my wall. It was a picture of me and my family, taken four years ago. My father's wide big smile, his content in having us as a family was radiating off of the picture. My mother's beautiful smile, her joy in having me and my sister as her own daughters and my father as her husband was visible in every possible angle. My little sister, carried in my father's arms, was grinning, feeling safe in his arms, knowing he will be there whenever she gets into some kind of trouble.
Then there was me. Dressed up in a light blue shirt, smiling like never again, as if it was her last time shining so brightly, which is actually true. It WAS her last time being a bright child, smiling brightly and even wearing bright clothes.
My eyes drifted to the mountain of clothes piled over one another on the couch; they were just dark shades of brown and grey along with white and black.
Just imagine:
Love,
Which is supposed to be the bright colour of someone's black and white life,
That same love,
Had managed to snatch away all the bright colors I once loved,
And make my life a 1950's black-and-white cinema.