Monochrome World

June 14, 2011
By DownpourHale BRONZE, Pelham, Alabama
DownpourHale BRONZE, Pelham, Alabama
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Respect the Downpour or face the Hale.

“A world of grey,” the young girl cried. “Why must I be blinded by unfaithful pigments?”

Her eyes were much like an orange orb shining with curiosity and burning with wonder. She was a prisoner of a colorless world; her own reflection was the only proof that such brilliance existed. Her eyes were proof of such magnificence, but only she could see it, while the rest of the world remained blinded of any hue other than that of mourning sin.

Valencia prayed everyday and every night that one day she would find someone who shined like she did. Someone who could produce such miracles as well as see it, she prayed that one day the whole world could see such, and everyday she woke up undoubtedly to grey. It was a bleak October day that Valencia decided to walk to the nearby chapel. She needed to think, she needed to hide, and she needed to rest… On her way to the chapel, she passed a grey pond, and a grey park and several grey gardens.

“Mercy…” She muttered, watching her grey breath fade away like pastels.

Once finally at the chapel, Valencia took a seat and studied her surroundings. She hadn’t been here in awhile. Not because she lacked faith, she didn’t- She just lacked hope.

Hanging from the chapel walls was a colossal cross; it gleamed in the dusk lights and shone with grey marvel. Valencia just hung her head. Another let down, and with the current setting, there seemed to be no hope.

Lifting her head, she stood promptly and marched out of the lifeless, soulless chapel. Tears rolled down her face and defeat trembled through her limp hands. Her head hung and her uneven breaths resembled that of grey thunder.

Trying to shake disappointment from her now heaving heart, she trudged down vacant hills. The journey she didn’t know she was on would lead her to an abandoned apartment complex. It was seven stories of shattered memories, forgotten boxes, and tattered dreams, not to mention the seven stories of delusional yesterdays. Seven stories, and she intended to climb every flight of stairs.

Once at the peak of the mountain, what do you do? Look down. What do you do after you look down? You fall. Valencia didn’t intend on falling; that would be double defeat. She was going to jump from the universe of grey and dive into a pool of color. Scarlet would flood the street that rest below, and her sacrifice would unveil the neglecting eyes, and by her very blood all would finally see.

Valencia ascended toward fate, destiny, and sacrifice one step at a time. The creaking steps counted time like an old chestnut clock. Ding…Ding…Ding. Valencia knew that once the clock finally tolled, fulfillment would be expelled of its vile masquerade and people would be gifted of sights they’d never seen.

With two more flights, Valencia tiptoed toward her fate; she looked out the window peering at the top of the stairs. Grey, she shuddered. She then nodded in silent agreement, Frost was truly right; nothing gold can stay, not even her spark-filled eyes.

One more flight till sacrifice, Valencia swallowed back her fear. “Thank you, God for giving me such a valuable quest. You truly were my shield and strength, and with that note give the world my place. Let them see through my very eyes, cherish it but yield to pride. Thank you Lord, one last time, I pray you be with me through my falling flight.”

At the top of the very last stair, Valencia stared through the window- her last sight of the daily night. She opened the door that lead to the top of the building, but before she stepped outside she took one last look. The window was broken, much like her bones would be, but through the shattered glass, you could see all that Valencia has seen. She nodded her head and walked away. You tell me, did she meet her fate?

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