Blue

Blue is the color of innocence.  Blue is the color of his favorite shirt.  Blue is the color of the sky.  Blue is the color he thinks of when he is happy.  

Chase says that blue is his favorite color.  He says it to himself, wishing that his white walls could be painted blue.  Then he would feel happy all the time.  But the tall man says no. He says that the walls have to be white to match the rest of the house.  It doesn’t make much sense to Chase, but the tall man makes the rules.  

Even if Chase could leave, he wasn’t sure if he would.  From what he’s seen, outside of his room, the world is just as blank.  When he was younger, he used to want to explore past his door, past his room and the silence that lays so heavily on it.  But those days are long gone, disappearing from his mind.  He tried to escape once, and barely made it before tall man was there and shouting.  The only memory Chase has now of those days is the knowledge of the consequences of trying to leave.  Days and days of dark rooms and chilling ice, cold that seeped into his bones.  Darkness that sucked up all light and warmth.

Chase knows that he cannot leave this place.  But he can still look out the window, the only window that he has.  He can look out of it and see the white clouds, and bright sun.  He can see the plains of light green and far away, a smudge of dark green.  But what he really wants to look at is the sky.  Chase loves it because it doesn’t just stay the same shade.  Everything else around him doesn’t change colors, except for the sky.  Well, the sun too, but it hurts his eyes.  

The sky changes colors all the time, and it makes Chase wish that he could change the color of things.  How does the sky change so much?  But the tall man only ignores his questions, and simply closes Chase’s bedroom door.  But it’s okay, because the tall man never answers his questions anyways.  He only tells Chase what to do.  

If Chase was the sky, he could stay up there in the air all day.  He could change colors whenever he wanted, and no one would tell him what to do.  He could talk to the clouds and sun and green smudges.  And maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t have to stay in one place.  Maybe he could move and roam wherever he wanted.  

Yes, blue is definitely Chase’s favorite color.  It’s the color he constantly thinks about, because it makes him feel different.  Like he has a big, wide open space to move around in.  Like he can talk and speak about whatever he wants to.  It makes him wonder if on the other side of the glass, he could run around forever.  It makes him wish that he wouldn’t run out of breath from moving so fast.  Then even inside he could feel…free.  

Yes, that’s the word.  Tall man mentioned it once.  Chase never truly understood what the word meant, but if he could run forever than it couldn’t be too bad.  He dreams of doing that sometimes, running forever in a field of green.  He doesn’t know why there is so much green.  He wishes it was blue, because the blue is prettier.  

There are times Chase dreams of blue too.  Sometimes it is just the sky, sometimes the blue is on the bottom of the world instead of the top. And that blue ripples and splashes into white foam.   Sometimes it’s a pair of blue eyes.  They’re not always blue.  Sometimes they’re brown.  When they’re brown, Chase feels happy.  Not blue happy, but a different kind of happy.  Not a happy that makes him want to run around, but one that makes him feel warm inside.  

When they’re blue again, they are a dark blue.  Dark as the upside-down sky, dark as the sky sometimes when it rains.  And when Chase sees those eyes, he feels his hands tingling, and his eyes feel different, and Chase feels like he can see every detail around him.  Even at their darkest, they are still full of light and banish the cold.  

Waking up again always makes all the color disappear.  Because he is waking up to white walls, and plain colors.  Waking up to suffocating darkness and icy silence.  The only bright colors are through the window.  But the window is flat, and cold to the touch.  Sometimes Chase wonders if the colors on the other side are his own imagination.  Sometimes he wonders if all colors feel that cold on his hands.  

Sometimes Chase is not happy, and sometimes he is mad.  Sometimes he thinks that he never wants to wake up.  Wake up to a room so blank and colorless. During times like these, Chase hates the tall man, because the tall man knows if those colors are real, but won’t tell him.  And then all the blue around him is torture, reminding him of the color-changing sky and those eyes that make him feel warm-happy and so alone.  

And then, Chase knows that he was meant for color-changes and happiness.  And then he knows that the colors are real.  They wouldn’t make him feel so many things if they weren’t.  And that the blank walls aren’t so bad because they make the window so much brighter.  And Chase tells himself that one day, he will do it.  One day he will find out what is on the other side of the cold glass.  He will find out if the colors are real.  If the sky is really always changing colors and free.  

Chase promises himself that he will cover the blank walls in his room with blue, with happiness.  Or maybe brown because of the warm-happy feel he misses so much.  And that he will truly be free.  He will be able to run anywhere he wants because he can.  And then he ignores the fear that rises up, pushing the bad memories back.  He believes that anything is possible.  

Eventually, these times pass, and Chase is once more content with the blank walls.   Content with only the never changing world around him.  The tall man stops shouting, and all is well in his room.  But every once in awhile these times come around.  And every once in awhile Chase might question the only place he has ever known.  He might wonder if there is more to himself then he can see.  Times when Chase wonders if the glass is transparent.  

But today is not one of those times.  And so he puts on a white shirt, matching the blank walls.  And he does not look out the window.  Chase does not think about clouds or the sun or green.  He does not think about coldness or warmness or change.  He does not think about the color blue.  He talks politely to tall man, and eats his bread.  

That night, in his dreams, there is still no white, green, or blue.  But there is still color, bright burning colorful color.  But tonight, all Chase can see in the back of his head is red.  Red and orange and all the shades in between.  And a new emotion comes back into his head.  When he looks out his window and wonders what is out there, and if it’s real.    Curiosity.  

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